


Chocolate and Cigarettes

by Makarioi



Series: Rose Potter Malfoy [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Angst and Feels, Background Relationships, Book 3: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Character Development, Drama, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, Forbidden Love, Harry Potter Has a Sibling, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, LGBTQ Themes, Love, Love Triangles, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Remus Lupin Likes Chocolate, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slytherins Being Slytherins, Strong Female Characters, Teacher-Student Relationship, The Golden Trio Era (Harry Potter), character driven
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:48:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 49
Words: 116,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27102223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Makarioi/pseuds/Makarioi
Summary: Rose Potter Malfoy had made the mistake of getting involved with a teacher during her sixth year; of falling in love with a certain Potion's Master and having her heart broken. But when a shabbily dressed Professor arrives at Hogwarts in her final year, Rose can't help being drawn to his warm blue eyes and mischievous smile. Between navigating her N.E.W.T.s exams, marriage proposals, Snape's jealousy, watching over Draco, and trying to figure out exactly what she's going to do with her life, Rose doesn't have time to worry about romance. Or at least that's what she keeps telling herself.This story is the first of a series and takes place during Prisoner of Azkaban. Rose is of wizarding age at any point in which she has a romantic relationship with Snape or Lupin but this does take place when she is a student. Remus Lupin is the primary love interest of this story with a bit of a Lupin x OC x Snape love triangle.I do not agree with J.K.'s transphobic remarks and fully support trans rights, as a member of the queer community myself, I hope this story can be an inclusive space for all people.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character, Original Female Character/Original Male Character, Original Male Character/Original Male Character, Remus Lupin/Original Female Character(s), Severus Snape/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Rose Potter Malfoy [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2020346
Comments: 332
Kudos: 245





	1. Chapter 1

_“Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing  
and right-doing there is a field.  
I’ll meet you there.”  
\- _Gebran Khalil Gebran

Severus didn’t look up from the papers on his desk when the green glow flared up in his fireplace. Nor did he raise his head while his guest dusted off her robes and tapped her shoes clean before stepping out of the grate and onto his carpet. Despite no longer reading the contents of his lesson plans, his gaze remained fixed on them as he listened to the soft footfalls as she approached his desk.

“Professor.” Her voice cut through the silence in a bored drawling tone. Severus felt a flash of annoyance shoot through him at her decision to speak first. It should not have surprised him that she was on the offensive today.

“Miss Malfoy.” Severus responded at last, setting his papers flat on his desk and looking up. His dark eyes moved up along the curve of long toned legs up to her uniform clad hips where her hands were currently set in a defiant pose. His eyes continued up her athletic frame, past the green and silver Slytherin tie at her neck and flinched away at the short red hair that hung in soft curls at her chin. His gaze was at last drawn up to her face where her lips were set in a slight frown and her normally large and bright hazel eyes were narrowed and spiteful as Rose returned his own stare.

“I believe you’ve received Professor McGonagall’s letter regarding the special circumstances this year.” He began and watched her frown become more pronounced, but her glare abated.

“I did,” Rose responded, her voice softening to a more conversational tone and her posture losing some of its stiffness. “I was confused as to why Professor Lupin would require a student assistant….”

“Lupin is quite frail and often falls ill.” Severus replied, a derogatory sneer creeping into his voice as he said the name of his hated ex-schoolmate. “The Headmaster was concerned that he might require an extra hand this year to keep from falling behind. I believe Minerva recommended you, she does dote on her favorite student after all.”

Rose’s lips quirked into a small grin at his last statement and Severus bereted himself internally as his heart sped up in his chest. The smirk quickly receded as his own frown strengthened. “She was under the impression you were interested in pursuing an academic profession and thought this would be an opportunity for you to gain some experience.”

His voice was accusatory as she had never mentioned this interest in advising sessions with him. Of course, last year’s advising sessions had tended toward the physical rather than the conversational. Snape shook his head sharply to clear away those thoughts.

“Yes,” Rose responded, her eyes sliding from his. “I was considering teaching last year. Now… I’m not so sure.”

“If you’d like me to propose a different student for the purpose—”

“No, I’m happy to be of help to Professor Lupin.”

“You do have your N.E.W.T.s to think about and your responsibilities as Head Girl.”

“I am quite capable,” Rose waved away his concerns imperiously with a delicate flick of her hand. Severus was struck by the similarity of her mannerisms to Lucius’ own. Rose always seemed to him a strange amalgamation of her birth parents and her adopted family. At times, all he could see in her was Lily, at times the prideful arrogance of Potter, and so often the cool calculation and regality of the Malfoys.

“If you begin to be overburdened by Lupin, come to me, and I will make your complaints to the Headmaster. A student shouldn’t be dragged down by the incompetence and laziness of a man like him.” Rose quirked a brow at his speech but nodded in understanding and they began going over her list of responsibilities in detail. While she would be assisting him in the classroom and with determining marks, she would also be seeing to the proper set up of his office and living space and making sure his needs were being attended to—part of the reason she had arrived early by flu powder rather than by the Hogwarts Express due in later that night.

“Is Professor Lupin here already, when will I meet him?”

“He will be arriving on the train. I believe Minerva is planning to introduce you after the feast.” Snape concluded in a dismissive tone. Rose took the hint and began to step towards the door. Severus tried not to watch her as she walked away from him, but even in his mind’s eye he could picture the way her long red hair used to swirl around her hips when she walked. Long red hair that was no longer there, he reminded himself, wincing at the memory.

“Will it be like this all year, Severus?” Snape looked up to see Rose standing in the doorway, head turned back towards him, one hand resting against the molding. Her hazel eyes looked so much younger now, so much more lost. His hands clenched tightly together on the desk in front of him as he met her gaze, his own eyes hard and impassive. They had both known last year that there could be no returning to the innocent relationship they’d had when she was a child and he a family friend. There were only two options open to them now, that of student and professor, or that of lovers, and she had made it very clear that she no longer desired the latter.

“That was and remains your decision,” he sneered at her, and Rose looked away quickly, nodding her head and disappearing out of the door. Severus dropped his face into his hands and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to erase the image of her from his mind.

For her part, Rose walked down the hallway with chin raised and eyes fixed straight ahead. She had done her crying over the summer. This was a new year, and she would not forget her goals and the expectations of her family, she was after all a Malfoy. Last year had been a whirlwind of emotion and regret, and she was resolved not to repeat such mistakes. She had fallen prey to fanciful notions like love and romance—surely a weakness that came from the Potter side of her; a weakness that came from Lily. She didn’t have many memories of her mother and father as they had died when she was only 4 years old. She did remember being shoved in a closet and watching her mother’s murder through a crack in the door as Lily protected her son. Remembered being trapped under rubble, cold and alone, crying, forgotten until a man had unearthed her and lifted her into his arms. She also remembered two years living in the muggle orphanage she had been abandoned to before Lucius and Narcissa had adopted her. Those had been dark miserable years. Meanwhile her brother, Harry, had been taken to live in a real home with their muggle relatives. But she, the not so special Potter, had been forgotten by everyone.

Rose shook her head to clear it of her resentments. She had been living as a Malfoy for over a decade now and couldn’t be happier. She was an heiress to one of the most powerful and wealthiest wizarding families in the world and she had a mother and father who loved her very much. This year she would continue doing her parents proud. She was Head Girl, among the top of her class, and a successful chaser for the Slytherin Quidditch team, the dream child for any pureblood family. The dream child… except for her tryst with a certain potion’s master last year. But that was over now. What had begun with Rose convinced that she had fallen in love with a man who loved her back had ended after too many glasses of wine and a slip of the tongue. It had ended when he’d called her Lily. Called her by her mother’s name.

Rose’s hands clenched in fury even thinking about it. She remembered screaming at him, remembered him apologizing fervently, remembered him pleading that he loved her. She also remembered picking up her wand and using a cutting charm to slice through her long red hair, dropping the curls at his feet. ' _You only love me because I look like her!’_ Rose fingered the short curls at her chin, now more elegantly cut into a soft bob around her face. Narcissa had nearly fainted when she’d seen the cropped locks and had wanted to regrow it with magic immediately. Rose had adamantly refused. She didn’t want to look any more like Lily than she already did. It was not an argument she would win for long, but for now it felt freeing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is more of a prequel introduction than a full chapter, most chapters will be between 2000 and 3000 words. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy!


	2. Chapter 2

_Love  
Is an interruption or an aberration,  
a force in opposition to the ultimate inertia  
of the universe,  
Wrote Marguerite Duras.  
Whether or not it is worth it it occurs.  
Whether or not it is to be believed it is._

\- Ariana Reines [Love]

Remus pushed back from the head table with an uncomfortably full stomach and a smile on his face. Being back in this hall felt like he’d walked into a dream. For the first time in years he was full and comfortable and felt safe and warm. Even though he was tired from his recent transformation, the energy and liveliness of Hogwarts was infectious. He could already feel years of worry and fear dropping away.

“Remus,” Minerva called to him and he turned her direction with a smile. The smile froze on his face as his gaze moved to the woman standing next to McGonagall. A jolt of pain ran through his body for the second time that day. He’d already experienced it once today when he’d looked into Harry’s face and seen James Potter staring back at him. He’d known, of course, that Rose would be here but that still hadn’t prepared him to once again see the ghost of a long dead friend staring back at him through the eyes of her daughter. Rose bore an uncanny resemblance to Lily, her curly orangey red hair, creamy lightly freckled skin, and widow’s peak nearly identical to the long dead mother. But even from this distance he could see James’ features in her too. Rose’s eyes were hazel just like her father’s and her figure was taller and more boyish than her mother’s had been—an athletic build with sharper angles to her face and body.

“Hello Minerva,” he managed at last. “And Rose Potter I believe.”

“Rose Malfoy,” the young woman corrected with a soft smile, only the barest flicker of annoyance passing through her eyes. A current of shock ran through Remus’ body like electricity, his eyes fixating briefly on the Slytherin badge on her robes. He’d known Rose had grown up in a different family than Harry’s. But the Malfoys? How could Dumbledore—

“It’s nice to meet you Professor Lupin.” Remus realized Rose had extended her hand to him and he quickly reached forward and shook it, her small hand cold in his large warm one.

Rose observed Lupin with calculating interest. From Severus’—no, _Professor Snape’s_ description of the man as incompetent and lazy, Rose had expected Lupin to be an elderly doddering wizard. Instead standing before her was a handsome, sharp-eyed man with a kind and curious gaze. It was true that Lupin looked tired, his brown hair was streaked with premature gray and a spidery network of scars covered his face, but he couldn’t be any older than Snape and his blue eyes were full of intelligence. The warm smile Lupin had sent her made Rose’s heart speed up. She quickly took that emotion, tore it to pieces, and stomped it into dust. This was not the time for her teenage hormones. As her hand fell away from his it continued to tingle with warmth.

“Miss Malfoy has agreed to assist you this year Remus.” Minerva interjected once more in her businesslike manner. “She is one of the most gifted students in her year, you will be in good hands with her.”

“I’m very grateful for your assistance, Rose.” Lupin responded, smiling genuinely at the young woman. Dumbledore had gone over the plan for a student assistant with him prior to the term, but he hadn’t mentioned who the student would be.

“I look forward to our work together Professor.” Rose smiled back in return, the grin transforming her face from calculating and reserved to warm and inviting. Remus’ breath caught briefly in his throat as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I will leave you two to get acquainted then. Miss Malfoy can show you to your quarters.” Minerva said, taking her leave of them. She nodded to Rose as she turned to leave, and Remus could see the clear signs of admiration for the Transfiguration professor on Rose’s part. As a previous student, Remus could easily relate to this hero worship. As Minerva left, Rose turned back to him and her eyes quickly swept calculatingly across his frame.

“If you follow me Professor, I can show you to your chambers.” Rose invited, her gaze returning to its welcoming warmth. Remus nodded and began to follow her out of the hall, trying not to stare at her while they walked. His mind was full of so many questions that simply couldn’t be answered now. Most students had cleared out of the hall by this time and Remus almost overlooked the dark figure lingering by the entrance until Snape stepped out of the shadows.

“Lupin,” he sneered.

“Ah, hello Severus.” Remus responded with a tone of forced politeness.

“Make sure not to drag Miss Malfoy down with you this year.” He quipped, his eyes lingering on Rose for a moment before he swept down the hall. Remus winced at the rebuke that hit at the heart of his insecurities. There were many people whom he was worried about letting down this year, James’ and Lily’s daughter not least among them.

“You’re going to do great.”

“Hm?” Remus eyes snapped back to Rose’s hazel ones which were leveled on him piercingly.

“You’re going to do great this year.” She repeated. “Never forget that I’m on your side.” Remus was taken aback by the fierce conviction in her gaze. For her part, Rose had never seen Snape look at anyone, not even Harry Potter, with the amount of distaste he’d leveled at Lupin. As she was still feeling quite the mix of frustration and anger towards Severus, it was easy to ally herself with Lupin against his ire.

“Thank you, Rose,” Remus smiled. She nodded firmly at him, smiled back, and began walking down the hallway. Remus followed after her, his own smile still tugging at the corner of his lips. The smile was still there when they passed through Lupin’s new class room, climbed up the stairs to his office and arrived at his quarters, the entrance hidden behind a tapestry of two lovers dancing in a glade while a musician strummed his loot besides them watching the two jealously.

“Ad meliora,” Rose spoke to the doorway and the lock clicked open. “You’re welcome to change the password if you’d like, I just wanted to get something set quickly before your luggage arrived.”

“No, it’s perfect,” Remus responded immediately. He recognized the Latin phrase as meaning ‘toward better things.’ He truly hoped the phrase was prophetic for his time here at Hogwarts. As he followed her through the doorway his eyes were first drawn to a crackling fire in the fireplace, his luggage stacked neatly to one side. The far wall was lined with shelves for books and a comfortable couch and chair tucked in the corner with a small table making a comfortable seating area. Curtains were drawn on tall windows behind the nook. There were fresh flowers in a vase on the table and the room had been decorated with a warm homey look.

“Through that door you’ll find the bedroom and private bath,” Rose indicated. “The house elf assigned to you is Wilpey, just snap your fingers and call her name if you need her. Should I leave you to get situated then? Do you have any questions?”

“I think that will do for now. Would you like to meet me here tomorrow to go over lesson plans for the term? Mid-morning perhaps? I can have tea sent up for us.” Remus smiled amicably at the serious young woman and she gave him a gentle smile in return, her face soft and eyes dark in the firelight.

“That sounds lovely.”

He watched as she hesitated, her lips partially open. “Is something the matter?”

“You knew Lily and James?” She asked hesitatingly, eyes fixing on his own. She looked suddenly smaller and not as certain, her face softer in the glow of the firelight, long lashes casting demure shadows across her face. “Not many people know the Potters had a daughter as well as the boy-who-lived.”

“Yes,” he answered slowly, noting that she didn’t use Harry’s name nor refer to Lily and James as her parents. “James was a close school friend of mine at school.”

“Have we… have we met then?” Rose asked, her eyes searching his as well as her own memory for any traces of the man. Vivid memories returned to Remus’ mind, memories of a temperamental toddler with red hair and a penchant for falling asleep on his lap. Memories of a child’s voice excitedly shouting, ‘Uncle Moony’ and tiny hands reaching up for him. Memories from a time before the Order had sent him to live among the werewolves. Before all of the distrust began.

“Yes Rose, we’ve met.” He agreed, blinking back more memories of a very young Lily and James fresh out of school, Lily’s belly already beginning to grow with the child inside of her. What a different life it would have been if they’d lived.

“I’m not her,” Rose’s voice cut through the memories like a knife and Remus blinked at her not comprehending. “Whoever she was, the girl you knew, I’m not her. I’m a Malfoy now.”

To Rose’s surprise, Remus smiled warmly down at her, lifting his hands and placing them comfortingly on her shoulders, his warm fingers easing the tension there. “Of course, Rose. And I look forward to getting to know the young woman you’ve become.”

“Thank you.”

He was surprised by the conviction behind those words—by the sincerity in her eyes as she relaxed beneath his hands. She gave him her first genuine smile of the night, a smile that wasn’t carefully trained and calculated and in which nothing was held back. It made her look absolutely beautiful in the firelight. His hands quickly dropped away from her shoulders as if he’d been stung.

“Goodnight Professor,” Rose said as she turned toward the door. Remus stood rooted to the spot for several moments after she’d left, his hands still tingling with the feel of her.

“Goodnight.” He whispered at last into the empty room.


	3. Chapter 3

_“Her eyes beguile me,  
they speak to me unknown feelings  
in the language that is known only by me:  
the language of love”_

_―_ Avijeet Das

_A young girl stood in a gray smock dress, her small hands fiddling nervously with the material. She kept her head bowed low, red hair sliding across her face, her hazel eyes fixed on the dusty floor. She didn’t look up when three people walked in the room. One of them, matron, stood off to the corner while the two others moved closer to her. Rose watched their expensive shoes move across the floor, the man’s ornate cane clicking commandingly with each step. Rose wanted to look up, wanted to smile and give a good first impression, but all she could do was tremble nervously._

_“Leave us,” the man’s voice sneered at the matron and, to Rose’s surprise, she obeyed. The woman stepped forward, and Rose’s chin sunk deeper into her chest as she knelt in front of Rose. The woman reached out and gently tucked a strand of Rose’s hair behind her ear and Rose finally looked up into warm blue eyes and a kind smiling face._

_“Hello Rose,” she said with a smile, icy blue eyes staring into hers. Rose thought she must be the most beautiful woman who had ever existed. “My name is Narcissa and this is Lucius, but you can call us mother and father. We’ve come to take you home.”_

_Rose’s eyes widened and she looked up at the two of them. Her eyes took in the tall man with long blonde hair who looked down at her seriously but not unkindly. Narcissa stood back up and offered Rose her hand and Rose took it slowly, her gaze returning to the floor._

_“Now, now, none of that,” came the man’s voice, “Stand up straight and keep your chin up. You are a Malfoy now, and that’s something to be proud of.”_

The memory of her adoption moved quickly through Rose’s mind as she pinned the Head Girl badge to her Slytherin robes. Lucius had been so proud when she’d received the appointment over the summer. He too had been a Head Boy in his own time at Hogwarts. Looking up from her task, Rose caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, her glance quickly evaluating her immaculate appearance before she moved out of the seventh year’s dormitory and down the stairs towards the Slytherin common room. She felt almost like a queen as she descended the steps, other students nodding to her as she passed them. This was her domain, just as her father had taught her: as a Malfoy, one always assumed command and others would always follow. From the common room couch, she could hear the sound of her brother mouthing off to his friends and hid her frown. Everyone needed cronies like Crabbe and Goyle but she wished he’d find others with more poise to surround himself with. Walking up behind the couch, Rose reached over and tousled Draco’s blonde hair.

“Little brother,” she greeted with a smile as he swatted her hand away and quickly moved to fix his hair. She could still remember the imperious toddler who had greeted her the first day she’d been brought home to the Malfoy manor with a demanding ‘ _play with me’_. Draco was growing up so fast it was staggering.

“Must you always do that,” he drawled in annoyance, turning sharp mischievous eyes on her once he had flattened his hair. “Can you believe they’ve made that oaf Hagrid a Professor? What a joke?! And that Lupin, he looks like he’ll fall over at the first sign of the dark arts. I can’t believe you’ve been stuck with him Rose.”

“I’ll remind you that his success is my success this year,” Rose reprimanded in annoyance. Lupin certainly didn’t make an imposing figure in his worn robes. As for Hagrid, she had never taken Care of Magical Creatures and was hardly bothered about him.

“Of course, I don’t doubt _your_ abilities, sister.” Draco smiled at her sheepishly before his imperious expression returned to his face. “Have you heard from Flint yet on practice?”

“Not yet,” Rose answered, her nose crinkling slightly at the name of their Quidditch captain. Marcus Flint was in her year and one of her fellow chasers on the team. He wasn’t a particularly pleasant individual to be around but despite lacking any level of subtlety she had to admire his ruthlessness in pursuit of any goal he set for himself. She’d learned a lot from him since joining the team in her fifth year. Rose had instantly fallen in love with Quidditch and felt incredibly at home on a broomstick. Like Draco, she too was hoping for victory in the Quidditch cup this year, last year’s final matches had been cancelled so they hadn’t won since her first year on the team.

“Tell me if you do,” Draco said to her, turning back to his friends and Rose nearly rolled her eyes.

“Of course, your majesty,” she quipped while she moved out of the Slytherin common room, ignoring Draco sticking his tongue out at her retreating back. As she ascended the stairs from the dungeons, she detoured briefly to the Great Hall to snag a small breakfast. Plopping down at the end of the Slytherin table where two other seventh years sat, Rose snagged a muffin off a tray, tore off a small chunk, and popped it in her mouth.

“Morning Rose,” one of her dorm mates greeted her, and Rose smiled back at the shorter Slytherin.

“Morning Mari,” Rose replied and nodded to the boy in Ravenclaw garb who sat next to her. “Morning Parker.”

Parker mumbled his greeting through a mouthful of food. The sandy-haired Ravenclaw had one hand wrapped around Mariko’s as they ate, nearly causing Rose to roll her eyes. Between Mariko and his two younger brothers who were both Slytherins, Parker was a common fixture at their table. The two had been inseparable since their fifth year and it was no surprise to see a shining stone gleamed on Mariko’s ring finger.

“Congratulations on the engagement you two.”

“Thanks!” Mariko grinned brightly, leaning over to kiss Parker on the cheek. The two had discussed the details in depth through letters, but Rose hadn’t had a chance to wish them well in person yet. Mariko was the closest person Rose had to a best friend, but in Slytherin house one was always wise to keep their friends at arm’s length. Though Mariko generally was bubbly and sweet, Rose knew she had been raised to be just as calculating and ruthless as Rose had been. Rose admired Mariko’s cunning and nerve, the black-haired beauty always seeming to know what to say and how to say it.

“Have you had any proposals?” Mariko inquired innocently. Rose felt her face warm slightly at the inquiry and glanced away. Though she’d never revealed the details of her relationship with Severus, it had not been lost on Mariko the numerous nights Rose had been absent from her bed last year. This in itself had been surprising enough as Rose had never shown much of an interest in anyone before. Mari didn’t blame her. There were not many eligible purebloods who were both handsome and intelligent in their year. She would have payed money to know who had finally aroused Rose’s interest last year, it couldn’t have been anyone her family would have approved of. A Gryffindor muggle-born perhaps?

“My father has mentioned some acquaintances from the ministry, Stefan Dolohov for one, but no introductions have been made yet.” Rose mentioned uncomfortably and Mariko’s eyes widened. The Dolohovs were a powerful wizarding family though they had fallen into disrepute with the general public after Antonin Dolohov, Stefan’s uncle, had been sent to Azkaban.

“Stefan would make a good match.” Parker interjected between bites of food. “He works in my father’s department in Magical Law. Says Stefan is one of their most promising employees. He’s the youngest person to have a seat on the Wizengamot in half a century.”

“And he’s quite handsome from what I hear. Plus, he’s so much older than you, so exciting!” Mariko exclaimed, patting Parker’s hand affectionately and winking at him when he shot her a look.

“He’s only nine years older,” Rose mumbled nibbling on her bagel. Her mother had already given her a list of his accolades over the summer, but Rose had been in the throes of heartbreak at the time and really hadn’t given them much thought. “I don’t know….”

“Well don’t be too picky,” Mari advised slyly, her eyes taking on a mischievous sparkle. “You don’t want to wind up a spinster. Don’t you have a birthday coming up next week?”

“I’d hardly call eighteen being a _spinster._ ” Rose dismissed with a laugh, but internally she felt the pressures of finding a desirable marriage. Her mother and father had been married right out of Hogwarts and that was the norm for most pureblood couples. The fact that Stefan was still single at twenty-seven was highly unusual.

“And of course, you need time to find someone who will accept you with your, you know… _condition_.” Rose felt Mariko’s words like a blade in her stomach. Rose’s eyes were icy as she stared into Mariko’s own and Mariko quickly dropped her gaze and sipped at her pumpkin juice. Parker had gone back to eating his breakfast, looking anywhere but at Rose.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’ve lost my appetite.” Rose quickly stood from the table, leaving the remains of her bagel behind. As she climbed the stairs to the third floor, Rose quickly bottled all the emotions that had been unleashed by Mariko’s remarks and stuffed them away. Her condition, of course, was that she was a half-blood. Even with the Malfoy name attached, her lineage was enough to divert the attention of many eligible pureblood bachelors. Unlike her brother, she would certainly never marry into one of the truly pure families in Britain. It was a sore spot and one she could not refute, and Mariko knew it. Both of them were aware that the Dolohovs were not one of the twenty-eight completely pure wizarding families in England, but had still kept their lineage mostly pureblood. Rose was sure it irked her parents to be unable to find her a match among them but knew a truly pureblood family would not taint its lineage with her impure heritage. Draco on the other hand would doubtless be married to one of their daughters when the time came. Rose wiped her hands on her robes unconsciously.

It was a relief when she at last came to Lupin’s private chambers just so she could have something else to think about. Drawing back the tapestry of the two lovers, Rose knocked at his door and, upon hearing ‘Come in!’ from the other side, said the password, opened it, and stepped into the chamber. Rose winced slightly at the explosion of papers, books, and glass containers that seemed to have gone off in his living room. Professor Lupin was seated in the middle of the floor sorting through a stack of books, sunlight streaming down on him from the now open window. Rose resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose, remembering the hours she’d spent in here the day before supervising the house elves as they cleaned and styled the space.

“Good morning Rose,” Lupin looked up at her from the floor with a boyish smile. He looked much better rested today, the sunlight on his pale face taking years off his appearance. Sitting cross legged in his slacks, button down shirt, and a worn but comfy cardigan, hair spilling into his blue eyes, Rose couldn’t help thinking that he looked rather adorable. He was clearly excited for the upcoming term.

“Are you always this messy?” Rose quipped dryly before she could help herself. “Sir.” She added the last part a bit too late to make up for her rudeness, but to her surprise Lupin just chuckled good naturedly at her.

“Not usually,” he grinned and gestured to the different piles. “You caught me in the middle of deciding what will be going to my office and what will be staying in here.”

Rose knelt down on the floor, smoothly tucking her long legs underneath her, eyes flicking across the messy piles and finally settling on what looked like a large fish tank. Her eyebrow arched skeptically at it. “And what are you planning to put in here?”

“Ah,” Lupin hedged, setting down a roll of parchment and fixing her with a mischievous look. “Well that depends.”

“Depends on what…?” Rose inquired hesitantly as Lupin’s smile widened.

“On whether or not you’ll help me catch a grindylow.” Lupin started to laugh as Rose’s eyebrows knit together in concern.

Two hours later, and quite a bit wetter, the two had successfully moved most of the supplies to Lupin’s new office and a young grindylow swam grumpily in the tank on his side table. Lupin flicked his wand at the two of them, siphoning water from the black lake out of their robes and hair and into the tank. Slightly less grouchy now that she no longer felt like a partially drowned cat, Rose sighed quietly in relief. Smiling in sympathetic understanding, Remus fell back into his office chair and looked around at his office happily. Rose settled herself into the chair across from him and couldn’t stop the smile that came to her own face. His grins were infectious. Pulling a bar of chocolate out of the desk drawer, Remus unwrapped it, broke off a square, and offered her a piece. Rose couldn’t help but smile at the absurdity of his sweet tooth as she accepted the square, and Remus shrugged with a boyish grin.

“A treat for a job well done.” He explained, watching as she popped the square into her mouth and licked a patch of melted chocolate from her fingers. “Thank you for all your help today Rose.”

"Happy to, professor.”


	4. Chapter 4

_The red rose whispers of passion,  
And the white rose breathes of love;  
O, the red rose is a falcon,  
And the white rose is a dove._

_But I send you a cream-white rosebud  
With a flush on its petal tips;  
For the love that is purest and sweetest  
Has a kiss of desire on the lips._

― John Boyle O’Reilly

After the initial panic of Lupin having to revise all of his plans for the year to catch his classes up on their subject matter, the two of them decided on a routine that wouldn’t interfere with her classes or Quidditch practices. Rose would swing by his office a couple days a week to assist with lesson plans and give marks to first- and second-year assignments. It seemed like he was trying to get far ahead in his work load and when Rose had commented on this, he had awkwardly told her that his health was often poor and he didn’t want to fall behind. That much of what Severus had told her at least, had been true.

Classes had already started off with brutal amounts of homework to help prepare them for their N.E.W.T.s at the end of the year. Rose’s head was already spinning at the assignments that had begun to pile up between her five N.E.W.T. level classes. While Rose had initially been planning to take a sixth N.E.W.T.—potions—she had dropped the subject at the end of the previous year. Rose couldn’t imagine spending more time with Professor Snape than she absolutely had to. She was already forced to see him every other week in her alchemy class, cotaught by both himself and McGonagall. She was one of only three students taking the highly specialized course.

On top of the stress of homework, her darling little brother had decided to pile onto her worries by landing himself in the hospital wing on his first day of his Care of Magical Creatures class. Rose was currently sitting off to the side of his bed, where he was laying surrounded by his Slytherin friends. A dark-haired girl was sitting so close that she had practically crawled into his bed. Rose flipped the page of her transfiguration textbook, trying not to listen to Draco exaggerating his pain. When she’d first been told that Draco had been mauled by a hippogriff, she’d sprinted out of her first Defense Against the Dark Arts class in a panic. Now, after seeing the superficial wounds, she couldn’t help feeling annoyed with Draco.

Looking up as the hospital wing doors slammed open, Rose swallowed thickly when the intimidating form of Lucius Malfoy billowed in, his cane clicking against the floor angrily. Madam Pomfrey poked her head out of her office, prepared to reprimand whoever was treating her doors in such a manner, took one look at Lucius, and quietly withdrew. Draco’s face had gone whiter than it had been when he’d been attacked, and he now looked slightly queasy. The glare Lucius leveled at Draco’s friends was enough to make them scamper out of the room without a second look at Draco. Rose marked her page with a bookmark, quietly closing it and lowering it to her lap, her gaze fixed firmly on their father’s livid expression as he looked at Draco’s bandaged arm.

“Father,” Rose greeted in a calm voice, and Lucius’ eyes snapped up to her, his expression softening as he looked her over before his gaze returned to Draco.

“The mudblood-loving hack of a headmaster is protecting that oaf.” Lucius snarled, his icy blue eyes flashing. “This won’t be the last of it. I will have the head of the beast that scarred my son.”

Both Malfoy children remained silent as their father’s temper flared and watched while he took a few calming breaths, his hand flexing around the snake head hilt of his cane. As he calmed, his icy gaze narrowed, returning to his son. His tone was low and biting, “As for you, _Draco_. I expect more from my son and _heir_ than to spend your time and energy on making a spectacle of yourself. Do you understand?”

“Yes, father,” Draco responded, his eyes staring straight down into his lap.

“Make certain I don’t need to come up here again.”

“Yes, father.”

“Rose. I am trusting you to keep your brother in line.” Lucius’ eyes snapped to hers, and Rose’s lips tightened in irritation at being saddled with the responsibility of controlling a thirteen-year-old boy, but she nodded regardless.

“Of course, father.”

“Walk me out,” Lucius commanded, and Rose got up quickly, tucking her textbook into her bag and slinging it over her shoulder. She gave Draco’s good hand a brief squeeze and followed her father out of the hospital wing and down the corridors. Rose could tell Lucius was still fuming internally over the situation with Draco by the aggressive way his cane smashed into the stone floors with each step. Rose trailed along beside her father quietly, her long legs easily keeping pace with him. As they neared the entryway, Lucius slowed and turned to her, the barest hint of a smile tugging at his lips as he looked her over.

“Your first Hogsmeade trip in October,” Lucius began. “I’ve arranged for you to meet with Stefan Dolohov.”

Rose’s eyes widened in surprise, but she nodded.

“You’ll be receiving further correspondence from him closer to the date.”

“I look forward to it.” Rose lied, her stomach churning nervously. Lucius held her gaze seriously.

“I don’t need to tell you how important this meeting is to your mother and I.” Rose’s eyes softened, and she nodded again. Lucius drew her into a quick embrace, and Rose nuzzled into his chest feeling warm and safe in his arms. “You’ve grown into a beautiful young woman Rose. We need to find the right person to take care of you.”

Releasing her, Lucius pulled a small package out of his robes and offered it to her.

“From your mother,” Lucius explained as Rose took it from him. “She said to be sure you use it before you meet with Dolohov.”

“Give her my thanks and my love.” Lucius leaned in, kissed her temple, and stepped towards the doors.

“We will see you both for the Christmas holidays.” Rose watched him leave, turning away and wandering down the corridor, deep in thought, turning the package over and over in her hands aimlessly. It wasn’t that she was opposed to the meeting, but she was surprised it was happening during the school year. Her parents must be getting desperate for her to find a suitable match and were finally taking things into her own hands. She had known for many years that finding an appropriate husband with whom she could carry on her family legacy was expected of her. Dolohov would not be the first man she’d been introduced to, but she’d never been so close to graduation before and the stakes were getting higher.

SMACK!

“Oof!” Rose stumbled back, clutching her nose, her eyes watering as she blinked away the pain of having walked straight into someone’s chest. As she blinked, she became aware of steadying hands grasping her upper arms.

“Are you alright, Rose?” Her eyes focused slowly on Lupin’s blue ones. His head was bent down to peer into her face, his shaggy brown hair falling into his eyes. Lifting a hand, Rose rubbed her nose a couple times.

“I think so, sir.” Lupin’s fingers pushed a red curl out of her face to get a better look at her nose, rough fingertips brushing her skin. Rose’s cheeks colored slightly at his proximity, and Lupin, suddenly realizing how close their faces were cleared his throat and stepped back, his own cheeks tinged pink. Their eyes fell on Rose’s dropped package at the same time and both bent down to pick it up, their hands touching briefly as they reached towards it. Rose snatched her hand back quickly, standing up with tingling fingers. Lupin ran his free hand through his hair and smiled sheepishly at her, offering the package.

“Thank you, professor.” She took it from him, returning his smile with a small one of her own. “I’m sorry for bumping into you, I was lost in thought.”

“Is your brother alright,” Lupin inquired, misinterpreting the reason for her absent-mindedness.

“He’ll be fine,” Rose responded dismissively, thinking of the superficial injuries to Draco’s arm. And then, remembering that it had been Lupin’s class she’d run out of in a panic earlier that day, “Thank you for letting me leave class.”

“Not a problem, Rose. If you have time to come to my office, I can give you notes on the lecture and assignments.” Nodding, Rose placed the package in her pocket and followed Lupin.

“How are your other classes? You’re taking five N.E.W.T.s, correct? Rather ambitious.”

“Yes, alchemy, arithmancy, herbology, transfiguration, and defense.”

“Alchemy?” He raised an eyebrow at her.

“It’s a family tradition,” she explained, Malfoys always took alchemy, it was a field dedicated to the study of immortality, wealth, and power and was considered a status symbol. “Even if it wasn’t, I would have taken it anyway as a subset of transfiguration.”

“Transfiguration was James’ favorite subject as well.” Lupin informed her before he could bite back the words. Rose looked at him sharply but didn’t protest. James Potter was not as much a sore spot for her as Lily, and Rose was rarely compared to him. “Do you want to continue studying transfiguration when you graduate? Professor McGonagall mentioned you might have an interest in teaching.”

“I… I don’t know what I want to do after Hogwarts.” Rose admitted honestly with a shrug. “My family expects that I find a husband, marry, and have children, I’ve never put much thought towards a career.”

When she had told McGonagall she was interested in teaching last year, she had scrambled for the first profession she could think of. The fact that she’d been infatuated with Severus at the time had certainly influenced where her mind had gone. A frown crossed Lupin’s face at her words, and Rose laughed at his expression.

“You look just like McGonagall when I told her that. ‘ _Miss Malfoy, you are far too talented a witch to spend your life playing trophy wife to some rich arrogant man_.’” Rose recited in a passable McGonagall impression, and Lupin let out a bark of laughter.

“I can’t say I disagree with that.”

“Me either,” she smiled softly. Rounding a corner, they came to the DADA classroom. Lupin pushed the door open for her and Rose squeezed through between his chest and the doorframe. Walking up to the desk at the front of the class, Remus picked his lecture notes off the table and, leaning back against his desk, offered them to her.

“I hope these are helpful.” Rose stepped forward and accepted the notes, tucking them into her bag.

“For what it’s worth, Rose, whatever you choose to do, I’m sure you’ll be great at it.” Remus smiled down at her, and Rose was struck suddenly by how tall he was and how dashing he looked with his dark hair falling into warm blue eyes. Her throat went dry, and her lips parted to speak.

“Lupin, we need to talk about—” Professor Snape’s commanding voice fell silent as he billowed into the classroom, his dark eyes landing on the two of them. Rose’s eyes locked with his as his lips turned up into a cruel sneer. “Ah, Miss Malfoy. Getting acquainted I see.”

Rose stepped back from Lupin quickly, a blush rising to her face as she broke eye contact with Snape. She heard Lupin step forward and felt one of his large hands land comfortingly and protectively on her shoulder. Rose could almost feel Snape’s eyes boring a hole into Lupin’s hand.

“Hello Severus, Rose here was just picking up notes from today’s lecture. She had to run out in the middle, I’m sure you heard about Draco.”

“Yes,” Snape continued to sneer, his eyes locked with hers, choosing to speak to Rose rather than Lupin. “I spoke with your father before he left, he wanted to extend an invitation to the Manor over the holidays. He sounded confident we’d be celebrating a happy engagement by then.” Rose could feel a cold sweat breaking out all over her body at his words, and her eyes dropped to the ground, red curls falling into her face.

“Rose…” Lupin’s voice trailed off as she smiled at the ground, not meeting his gaze.

“I’ll see you Thursday to go over essays, sir.” Rose walked towards the door, feeling the eyes of both Remus and Severus on her as she left without another word.

Remus glared at Snape who returned his glare with one of his own. “Why would you say that to her?”

“Would you prefer I’d lied?” Snape snapped back in irritation. Remus scratched the back of his head uncomfortably.

“You didn’t have to say it the way you did.”

“Don’t presume to lecture me. I have known Miss Malfoy and her family her whole life—”

“ _Her family_ —” Lupin’s began in derision, but Snape cut him off quickly.

“Yes, Lupin, her _family_. The ones who took her home and raised her after she’d been abandoned and sent to live in a muggle orphanage by the rest of you. The rest of you who couldn’t be bothered by anyone other than the famous _Harry Potter_.”

“That isn’t—that’s not—” Lupin protested weakly. He’d harbored guilt for years for never trying to make contact with either of James’ and Lily’s children, but what could he have possibly offered them?

“Miss Malfoy knows very well what is expected of her. Do you know better than all the other people in her life after having known her for only a handful of days?” Snape’s words cut Lupin to the bone and his mouth snapped shut.

“I just… I want her to be happy.” Remus mumbled, looking anywhere but Snape’s face. Because of this he missed the flash of confused emotions that were roiling within Snape’s own eyes. He had nearly thrown a chair into the wall after Lucius had left earlier.

‘ _I want her to be happy.’_ What did this man, this _werewolf_ , know about Rose’s happiness? It was Severus who knew the excitement that came to her at the prospect of an academic challenge; it was he who knew her favorite books and the way she looked as she read in the firelight; it was he who knew the look of pure pleasure in her eyes after she’d taken her first sip of red wine; it was he who knew how she liked to be held and the way the weight of her body felt against his own; it was he who knew how to elicit a soft moan from her lips by showering the curve of her neck in kisses and love bites; it was his name she had whispered into the dark of his chambers as he buried his face in her fiery hair—their bodies entwined in the throes of passion. One more year, he’d thought, one more year and he could have proposed himself to Lucius as a match for Rose, one more year of picky purebloods turning up their noses at her because of Lily’s blood. And now this Dolohov boy had come along and would ruin everything for him—not that Rose would have him now anyways.

Back in her dormitory, Rose unwrapped the package Narcissa had sent her to find a beautiful ivory comb laying within. A short letter accompanied it:

_Dearest Rose,_

_This comb has been enchanted to regrow hair each time it is used. Be sure to brush your hair out every day until you meet with Stefan. Men like long hair, and we want you to look your best when you meet him. I will send along some clothes for you to wear closer to October._

_Love,  
Mom_

Sitting in front of the mirror, Rose dutifully began to comb out her red curls, watching as they slowly began to lengthen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alchemy is in fact a class taught at Hogwarts according to the expanded HP canon, and Draco is supposed to have taken it in his seventh year when he goes back to Hogwarts. Thought it would be fun to include!


	5. Chapter 5

_“If each day,_   
_each hour,_   
_you feel that you are destined for me_   
_with implacable sweetness,_   
_if each day a flower_   
_climbs up to your lips to seek me,_   
_ah my love, ah my own,_   
_in me all that fire is repeated,_   
_in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,_   
_my love feeds on your love, beloved,_   
_and as long as you live it will be in your arms_   
_without leaving mine._

\- Pablo Neruda [If You Forget Me]

“To Rose, eighteen and beautiful!” Approving cheers rang out at Mari’s short toast, and glasses clinked together before Rose, Mariko, Ava, and Sam all threw back a shot of firewhiskey. Rose grimaced as the hot cinnamon liquor burned its way down her throat, and she shook her head in disgust.

“Gross.” The others laughed at Rose’s well-known dislike of firewhiskey, and Sam shrugged unapologetically, her yellow and black scarf shifting as she did so. The end of September had come and already the weather was cooling quickly.

“It’s all I could get before our first Hogsmeade trip, just be happy we had anything at all.” The four friends lounged against the large blanket they’d spread out on the shore of the Black Lake near the forest’s edge. They were tucked out of sight from the castle and any prying eyes. Sam, propped with her back against a tree, tugged Ava back to lean against her chest, the young Ravenclaw blushing furiously as she did so. Sam laughed at her, affectionately brushing heavy bangs out of Ava’s brown eyes.

“You two are cute.” Mariko told them, and Rose agreed with a nod and a smile. Sam was average height with a strong sporty figure, her naturally coily hair cropped close to her dark heart shaped face. Ava, a bit taller than Sam, was pale with long brown hair falling to her mid back and wore heavy make-up to hide the shadow of stubble that grew on her chin. Ava had begun transitioning well before Rose had known her, but with parents who didn’t understand, was having to wait until graduation to have any kind of transfiguration work done. Sam, Mariko, and Rose had been forced into a group project in their fifth year in Professor Quirrell’s class and Ava, who was a friend of Sam’s, had quickly become part of their group. The long friendship between Ava and Sam had finally developed into a full-blown romance in the spring of last year when the shy Ravenclaw finally succumbed to Sam’s charismatic advances.

“How are classes going for you all? I heard Professor Lupin has turned out to be rather good.” Ava inquired quickly changing the subject. Since she he had dropped DADA after her fifth year, she had no classes with him.

“He’s very good,” Sam answered quickly, and Mariko nodded grudgingly.

“You wouldn’t have guessed it from looking at him,” Mari quipped causing Ava to roll her eyes.

“You’re such a bitch, Mari.”

“And proud of it.”

Rose rolled her eyes at the two of them and poured them all another shot of firewhiskey, she had rounds tonight and needed to get buzzed and sober quickly. The burning in her throat wasn’t as terrible this time when the shot went down and warmth pooled in her stomach.

“Is it true you’re doing full body human transfigurations this year?” Ava’s eyes fell on her. Rose was the only one in their friend group doing the transfiguration N.E.W.T.

“Yeah. I’m terrified.” Rose admitted honestly. Such advanced human transfiguration was closely regulated by the Ministry and only taught in the seventh year because of how dangerous they could be.

“Why?” Sam asked instantly. “McGonagall will be there if you fuck anything up.”

“I know… still. Can you imagine being transfigured into an animal with no way to change back unless someone else fixes you?” The four girls fell silent with a shiver.

“It’s all prep for the Animagus transformation though isn’t it?” Mari asked, her face slightly pale from Rose’s previous statement. For a Slytherin, giving up control and putting that much trust in someone else was particularly terrifying.

“Well, yeah, theoretically. But we only get to try to become Animagi in the second term and only if McGonagall is happy with our transformations up to that point. Almost no one does it since it's such an in depth process. So far we’ve only been doing partial transfigurations on each other.”

“Partial transfigurations?” Mari asked, doling out another round of shots.

“Yeah, like ears, tails, stuff like that.”

“Kinky…” Sam said. Ava slapped her lightly on the arm at this comment while the four of them giggled and took their shots. “What? You were all thinking it.”

“No potions this year Rose?” Sam asked slyly, her eyes glittering mischievously. Sam had known all about Rose’s crush on Professor Snape from their potion's class together the previous year. Of course, Sam didn’t know to what lengths that crush had taken her. Rose blushed and shook her head.

“ _Thank Merlin_ ,” Mari interjected. “I can’t believe you and Ava are taking five N.E.W.T.s, six would have been ridiculous. Most people only take three if they can help it unless they’re aiming to become a Healer or an Auror. What do you even want to do? At least Ava wants to brew potions for St. Mungo’s.”

Rose shrugged but was saved from answering by a rustling to their left. “Shit,” she heard Sam mumble and the Hufflepuff kicked the bottle of firewhiskey behind Mari. Rose flicked her wand and quickly vanished the shot glasses as Professor Lupin emerged from the forest path that followed the shoreline around the Black Lake. He stopped short at seeing the four students all staring at him guiltily and smiled, running a hand through his hair awkwardly.

“Ladies,” he greeted.

“Hello Professor Lupin,” they chorused, and Mari leaning back casually across the firewhiskey bottle as he approached. His smile faltered as he noticed their alcohol flushed faces, his expression turning suspicious.

“We’re celebrating Rose’s birthday.” Mari told him with a grin, and Lupin’s eyes flickered to her. Rose shrugged at him sheepishly, trying not to sweat too much. McGonagall would murder her if she found out Hogwarts’ Head Girl had been drinking on school grounds. Remus’ blue eyes softened at this, and he smiled at her.

“Happy birthday, Rose.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“It’s getting close to dinner time, the four of you should probably wrap up your celebration.” He told them pointedly before moving on towards the castle. All four of them breathed out a collective sigh of relief.

“Okay, I like him. He’s cool,” Ava declared.

“And cute.” Sam agreed, shrugging when Ava shot her a glare. “What, I said he’s cute, not that I wanted to fuck him.”

“You’d better not,” Ava warned playfully, wrapping her arms around Sam. Rose’s buzzed brain couldn’t help agreeing silently with Sam’s observation. Now that she had become accustomed to his patched robes and tired expression, she thought he really was cute—in a rugged unpolished sort of way. It was much different than the immaculately handsome purebloods she was used to associating with.

“He’s alright,” Mari admitted with a smile, and the four of them headed up to the castle shortly thereafter, Sam stowing the bottle in her bag. None of them wanted to risk Lupin changing his mind and coming back down to yell at them. When owls swooped in, Rose received a sparkling diamond choker and matching earrings from her parents for her birthday that all the Slytherins ooh-ed and ah-ed over. Her mother’s delicate script had scrawled a short p.s. at the end of the letter: ‘ _for October’_. Rose had crumpled up the note into a ball, putting the jewelry into a magically locked drawer beside her bed—she didn’t trust any of the Slytherins not to try stealing it, and left to start her rounds.

Rounds had been her favorite part of being a prefect and now of being Head Girl as well. There were rarely any disruptions, and Rose got to wander the castle at night, enjoying the quiet and the soft snores from slumbering portraits. As she turned a corner, she saw a figure moving up an adjacent corridor towards her, and her throat clenched momentarily, worrying that it was Snape. But as the figure came into view Rose relaxed and smiled, it was only Professor Lupin.

“Hello Rose,” he greeted with a smile that she returned easily. “Do you mind if I join you for a bit? Walking alone can get boring.”

“I don’t mind,” she replied, and fell into step with him. The two walked comfortably together in silence for a while. Between her classes and the two days a week she was helping with grading and lesson plans, the two were spending a lot of time together and had quickly warmed to one another’s company.

“Professor…”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you. For earlier.” Rose blushed in the dark, and Lupin laughed.

“I know what it’s like to be a student, Rose. We were all a bunch of rule breakers back then, too. I thought a detention would make for a poor birthday gift, but try to be more discreet next time.” Rose smiled as they lapsed into silence once more, climbing a spiral staircase together. Emerging on one of the many turrets, Rose looked up at the night sky and moved to the parapet to stare across the castle grounds. Lupin came and stood beside her, his hand resting beside hers on the cold stone, so close she could almost feel the warmth of him. So close but not touching.

“Rose…”

“Hmm?” She mocked, and he laughed good naturedly. “I have a gift for you. That is—if you’d like it. I’m not sure...”

Rose turned towards him and became aware that he looked very nervous and very young. Her eyes fixed on his curiously. He seemed to take some courage from her gaze and took a shaky breath, running his hand through his hair anxiously. Reaching into his robes, he pulled out a small leather-bound book, it looked old and worn and well-read. Offering it to her, Rose opened the book and froze at the name she saw scrawled on the bottom of the cover page.

“It was your mother’s. I know you have… complicated feelings about Lily and James, but I think she would have wanted you to have it. She gave it to me many years ago, it’s a collection of muggle poetry which she knew I was fond of.” Rose stared at Lily’s name scrawled under the book’s title ' _Meditations on Love_.'

“Professor, I—I can’t accept this from you. I know how much she and James meant to you—” She tried to hastily offer it back, but his warm hands closed over hers, pressing the book back into her chest.

“Please keep it. For me? I haven’t been able to do anything for you all these years. I know that you are a Malfoy, and I respect that. But to not have anything of theirs… to know nothing about… I’m sorry.” Lupin’s voice had choked up towards the end and he stepped away from her hastily, turning to look out over the castle grounds, cool wind ruffling his hair, his robes flowing gently around his ankles. Rose looked back down at the book, flipping through it, to where a small black and white photograph was tucked. 

Four young faces smiled up at her, waving at the photographer. Rose instantly recognized James and Lily who sat in the middle, Lily’s belly was swollen in pregnancy and James’ hand was laid across it. They were young enough that Rose was sure Lily was pregnant with her rather than Harry. Beside James stood a handsome man who Rose recognized as Sirius Black—she’d heard all of the terrible details of his betrayal from her father after Black’s escape from Azkaban earlier that year. Beside Sirius was a rather nondescript looking young man whose name Rose didn't know. Next to Lily sat a tired but happy looking Remus Lupin, there was no gray in his hair and his face was less worn with age, but his cheeky boyish smile was the same. As the young Remus waved up at her and grinned, Rose was overcome with a rush of affection for the man. Closing the book carefully, Rose stepped in close to Lupin and kissed his scarred cheek, making him jump in surprise, that same boyish smile crossing his face as he raised a hand to his face where her lips had been only a moment ago.

“I feel like I’m always thanking you Professor.” Remus’ grin widened, and he ruffled his hair with a shrug.

“Can’t say I mind it.”

“I’m sure you don’t,” she said with a laugh. Rose offered the book to him, and he raised an eyebrow at her. “Will you read me one of your favorites?”

Taking the book from her fingers, Lupin flipped through the pages, his hair falling back into clear blue eyes, his lips parting slightly. The book opened to a well-worn crease in the leather spine, and Lupin cleared his throat, his eyes glancing up to hers as he began to recite.

“Before you came things were just what they were: the road precisely a road, the horizon fixed, the limit of what could be seen, a glass of wine was no more than a glass of wine. With you the world took on the spectrum radiating from my heart: your eyes gold as they open to me, slate the color that falls each time I lost all hope.

“With your advent roses burst into flame: you were the artist of dried-up leaves, sorceress who flicked her wrist to change dust into soot. You lacquered the night black. As for the sky, the road, the cup of wine: one was my tear-drenched shirt, the other an aching nerve, the third a mirror that never reflected the same thing.

“Now you are here again—stay with me. This time things will fall into place; the road can be the road, the sky nothing but sky; the glass of wine, as it should be, the glass of wine.”

Their eyes met again as he finished, and Rose realized that her heart was pounding furiously in her chest and her skin felt feverish and hot. She felt as though she were melting in the depths of his blue eyes. And for a moment, just a moment, she thought she saw the same heat and electricity reflected in his own eyes, before he blinked and looked away, holding the book out to her. Taking it, Rose turned and fled down the staircase without another word. Clutching the book to her chest, she continued to feel hot all over. Closing her eyes and leaning against the corridor wall at the bottom of the stairway, she tried to catch her breath.

‘ _What was that?_ ’ she thought to herself. Hadn’t she learned her lesson last year? Hadn’t she learned the consequences of getting close to someone who was once close with her mother?

‘ _He doesn’t care about you, Rose, when he’s with you he sees her,_ ’ she told herself furiously.

But a rebellious part of her argued back, ‘ _he didn’t love Lily, not the way Severus did. He never looked at Lily with that expression, with eyes of molten fire. He never looked at her the way he looked at me just now.’_

 _You don’t know that,_ ’ she argued back, and the rebellious voice quieted reluctantly.

Returning to her rounds, she remembered what Sam had said earlier, “I said he’s cute, not that I wanted to fuck him.” If the heat between her thighs and her wildly thumping heart had anything to say about it, Rose could no longer completely agree with Sam’s statement.

Still at the top of the tower, Remus was leaning against the parapet, his head in his hands. He thought briefly of smashing his face repeatedly into the stone wall but resisted. What had just happened?

‘ _You were giving a gift to your friends’ daughter_ ’ part of him said soothingly.

But another part of him snickered at the lie. ‘ _You weren’t thinking of her as a friend’s daughter when she kissed you on the cheek’_

_'She was just being nice.’_

_You weren’t thinking of her as a friend’s daughter when you read her that poem.’_

_'I’m her teacher.’_

_'She wasn’t thinking of you as her professor just now… or maybe she was, maybe she likes that_.’ 

Remus groaned weakly, rubbing his palms painfully into his eyelids. He couldn’t deny that. He could still smell her arousal in the air with his heightened senses, and it had caused a similar response in his own body. He could remember the way strands of fiery hair had stuck to her full parted lips, the way the starlight had reflected in her dark eyes, the wanting way she had stared at him.

‘ _Lily’s hair. James’ eyes_.’ He told himself with another moan, his knees crumpling at last as he leaned his forehead against the stone feeling disgusted with himself. The disgust didn’t keep his cheek from tingling pleasantly where she’d kissed him—kissed him with her soft lips that were entirely her own.


	6. Chapter 6

_“Tonight I am going to sleep alone  
on the bedclothes of purity.  
Aloneness  
is the first hygienic measure.  
Aloneness  
will enlarge the walls of the room,  
I will open the window  
and the large, frosty air will enter,  
healthy as tragedy.  
Human thoughts will enter  
and human concerns,  
misfortune of others, saintliness of others.  
They will converse softly and sternly._

_Do not come anymore._  
I am an animal  
very rarely.”

\- Anna Swir [I Will Open a Window]

As the weeks of October sped by, Rose was grateful that she and Lupin had both decided to ignore what had happened on her birthday. Things went on as normal around him, except that they might have been a little more cautious with their touches, more aware of staying a safe distance from one another. Remus greeted her on rounds, but he didn’t make the mistake of walking with her again. A polite friendliness was all that remained. But in her dormitory bed at night, when Rose would read the love poems from the book he had given her or look at the picture of her parents and Remus, her heart would speed up traitorously. She wondered what Lily would think of her daughter thinking about her friend as she read poems from her mother’s own book. Rose decided she didn’t give a damn what Lily would have thought. Between Quidditch practices twice a week and the amount of homework that was piling up, Rose rarely had time to read poetry anyways.

In transfiguration, they had moved on to trying to fully transfigure one another into animals under McGonagall’s strict supervision. Rose was grateful to be paired with Percy Weasley for these exercises, as he took it very seriously. While she didn’t always get along with her fellow Head Boy, who was still upset that she had beaten out his girlfriend Penelope for the role of Head Girl, she knew that he worked his hardest in classes. It wasn’t long before she had successfully turned him into a red furred weasel, and he had turned her into a silver-blonde ferret—each earning a handful of points for their houses from McGonagall. Soon they would be working to untransfigure a fully transfigured person—something McGonagall had been doing for them up till now and significantly more dangerous.

In herbology they were working with fully grown mandrakes and other dangerous plants, learning how to safely harvest from them, how different tools like metal, glass, or wood affected the harvest, and how the phases of the moon, stars, and sun could impact the outcome. They were keeping careful notes in an astronomy calendar, and Rose was grateful to have taken astronomy to the O.W.L. level. Some of her classmates who had not were now struggling to keep up in herbology.

In arithmancy, Professor Vector was teaching them how the numerology of a word or phrase impacted its magical properties. Whereas in previous years they had used the magical properties of numbers to divine the likelihood of events and better understand human behavior and choices, this year the students were working to create their own spells based on this knowledge. It was not enough to put together random words to do magic, the numbers had to be right as well for optimum results.

In defense against the dark arts, after a quick review of nonverbal spells from their sixth year, Lupin had moved on to having them practicing wandless magic. He had been clear that this was a very advanced branch of magic and that any results at all were to be celebrated. Where Rose had once found great success with nonverbal spells, she was finding wandless magic to be much more difficult and had so far only succeeded in rolling a pencil off her desk. Lupin had assured her that this was something to be ecstatic about. As none of the other students were having any more success than her, Rose decided to take him at his word.

Alchemy was both her most interesting and most frustrating class. In the class, she was the only woman out of the three students. Her classmates were Parker Smythe and a fellow Slytherin Lucian Bole whom Flint had also recently made a beater on the Slytherin Quidditch team. On McGonagall’s teaching weeks, they had been working to transfigure items from one element to another. In normal transfiguration, only the physical shape of something was changed. To actually change the physical makeup of something was a much more complex process and the changes were often permanent. At the moment they were trying to transfigure a tree branch into stone. McGonagall had impressed upon them the serious repercussions of ever using petrification magic on living beings. _‘Petrification of so much as a housefly will land you with a one-way sentence to Azkaban.’_

The weeks that Snape taught them were absolute torture. Rose had gone through Hogwarts as one of Snape’s favorite students, he had always fawned over her and her work. Now he sneered at her and was quick to point out every mistake she made. After they spent the first few weeks exploring muggle chemistry and its relevancy for alchemy, they had moved onto occlumency.

“Alchemy, in its most advanced iteration,” lectured Snape in a bored drawl, “Is a journey of personal enlightenment. It is the belief of the alchemist that to completely understand and control the basic elements which make up our world, one must have complete understanding and control of oneself. As such, mastery of occlumency is an indispensable part of the alchemist’s journey towards mental control and awareness. The three of you will take turns casting legilimens at one another and trying to protect your minds. You will need to calm your thoughts and be in complete control of your emotions as you do this.”

Parker, Lucian, and Rose stood in a triangle, going around and casting the spell at one another. Having begun occlumency training with her own father the summer before her fifth year, Rose was not particularly concerned by this exercise. She found that, like her, Lucian had some training in occlumency, but he was not as skilled at calming his mind. She was soon seeing snippets of Lucian and Parker’s childhoods and school experiences. Snape was watching their interactions with growing dissatisfaction as Rose continued to easily block out the two boys.

“Lower your wand Smythe.” Snape snapped at him as Parker lifted his wand at her for the umpteenth time. Drawing his own wand, Severus flicked the sleeves of his robes back from his wrists, his black eyes locking on hers. Rose stood up straighter, her whole body stiffening in apprehension. She did not want Severus Snape poking around in her thoughts. The very idea made her heart quicken in anxiety and she worked hard to quiet the storm of emotions that was taking place. As his eyes bore into her own, she realized her mistake, Snape had cast the spell nonverbally and she wasn’t at all prepared.

Memories flash through Rose’s mind in rapid succession.

…A young girl sits on a couch between two loving people, a red headed woman places a sleeping infant in her arms. ‘Support his head like this,’ she instructs, keeping her own hand under the infant’s head as she helps maneuver Rose’s elbow. ‘This is your little brother Rosie,’ the black-haired man next to her says. ‘Isn’t he beautiful?’

…Pain, so much pain. She heard the movement of others, but couldn't bring herself to cry out, and now they are gone and she is all alone. A man with dark hair and a hooked nose unearths her from the rubble. She is barely conscious. His face is streaked with tears as he holds her near lifeless body to him.

…Loneliness, hunger, filth. This is her life now. She is cold and her hands are dry and tired from cleaning. The other children avoid her, strange things happen when she’s around. And when those strange things happen, Matron smacks her hard across the face or canes her viciously. ‘You ungrateful unnatural girl!’

…The same young girl, a couple years older cries into a silken emerald green pillow. The door to the bedroom creaks open and she quiets quickly, shaking as large hands pick her up out of the bed and cradle her small body against a strong chest, blonde hair tickles her nose and a hand rubs her back soothingly. ‘Hush now, Rose. You are my daughter. No one will ever hurt you again. Severus was right to tell us about you.’

…A blonde toddler runs up to her, his blue eyes peering up into her face that she tries to hide from him shyly. He grins broadly at her, tugging on her long red hair. ‘Pwetty!’ He exclaims, and she smiles tentatively back.

…A dark cloaked man with a hooked nose looks down at her as she nervously stirs the mixture in her cauldron. His lips twitch in approval and he nods at her. Butterflies fill her stomach as he sweeps past her to yell at someone else. Rose can’t stop smiling.

…A young boy with black hair and green eyes stares up at her in confusion. ‘I saw you in a mirror, you were standing with my family. Who are you?’ He takes her to see the mirror, but she can’t see the people he’s talking about. All she can see is a young woman who looks just like her except that she has pale blonde hair and blue eyes and standing beside her is her potion’s professor with dark hair and sallow skin.

…It’s Christmas at the manor, her parents are throwing their annual Christmas party and after her third glass of wine, Rose needs to get some fresh air. As she steps out onto the balcony, she realizes she is not the only one there. Severus is already leaning against the railing, pale face illuminated in the moonlight. He turns to her and he looks so sad and alone it nearly stops her heart. ‘I’m sorry, I can—’ ‘Come,’ he commands rather than invites, and Rose moves to stand next to him. Her heart is beating so fast, and she shivers from the cold and from her proximity to him. She realizes he is watching her, looking her over in her tight black evening gown, so different than the school uniform he’s used to seeing her in. His dark eyes look into hers and she can tell that he knows everything she is feeling at this moment. She has no defenses in her drunken state and she doesn’t care. She lets all of her desire fill her mind as he looks into her eyes. Raising an arm, he brushes a strand of long red hair back from her face, his eyes breaking from hers to follow the movement. His hand suddenly tangles in the hair at the nape of her neck and he swiftly pulls her to him, his lips crashing down on hers with a possessive hunger that leaves her breathless

…She sits in an office chair reading through papers, her eyes skimming lazily across the messy writing. Her feet are propped up on a chair beside her, long toned legs spread out beneath her skirt. Feeling the hairs stand up on the back of her neck, Rose looks up, locking eyes with Lupin as he watches her over the top of a paper he is supposed to be reading. He smiles dashingly at her as she catches him staring before lowering his gaze back to the paper in his hands. She can feel her cheeks tinging pink as a smile tugs at her own lips.

“No.”

…She is climbing a staircase in the dark to the top of a tower, emerging into the freshness of the night sky.

“No!”

…She is looking down at a book in her hands, a warmth of affection in her stomach.

“NO!”

Rose snapped back to the classroom they were in, both she and Snape panting heavily. She realized that Parker was supporting her with a strong arm wrapped under one of her own.

“Are you alright, Rose?” He asked, looking down at her with worry, Rose, smiling weakly up at him, nodded.

“Class is dismissed.” Rose froze at the dangerous tone in Snape’s voice. The three of them rushed to pack their bags. Just as she was about to step out the door, Snape spoke again. “Miss Malfoy.”

Rose let the door fall closed in front of her with a feeling of finality and turned slowly to face him. She nearly jumped at how close he was, and she took a step back into the wall as he continued to advance on her, dark eyes unreadable. Did he see the memory? Did he know—? No, she was sure the memory had ended before—Snape’s lips crashed down on hers, hands tangling in her red hair. Rose gasped into the kiss, her eyes closing in desire as his lips ravaged hers. She felt her back impact the wall hard and one of Snape’s hands crept down her side and grasped her thigh with bruising force, drawing one of her long legs up around his hip. She moaned into his mouth as he pressed himself firmly against her. Warning bells went off in her head as the hand that was still tangled in her hair pulled hard enough to tilt her head back. He kissed the hallow of her neck and through the haze of pleasure Rose came to her senses. ‘ _It’s Lily he wants, not you. Not you_.’

“Severus,” she began weakly, but he either couldn’t hear her or pretended not to. His hand on her thigh moved up beneath her skirt. Rose felt panic. “Severus, _stop_.”

This time he paused, unmoving they both stood entwined, panting into each other’s shoulders. After what seemed like an eternity, he slowly drew back, releasing her leg but not the hand in her hair. His dark eyes stared into hers, but he didn’t try to see into her mind again.

“You are _mine,_ Roselin,” he declared, and how could Rose refute that? It was Severus who had saved her from the rubble on the night of James and Lily’s murder, it was Severus who had alerted the Malfoys to her plight and given her a family, it was Severus who had been her first love, her first kiss, her first everything.

Rose felt marked by him, claimed by the man to the very core of her being. But part of her protested. Had she been saved to play out some fantasy Snape still harbored for her mother? When they had been together, they often fought over her decision to drop charms and pursue transfiguration. He had threatened to cut her from the Slytherin team when he knew she loved Quidditch so much. He always buried his face in her hair during sex rather than gaze into her eyes. Rose was disgusted with herself that it had taken so long to realize what was going on, but she had been blinded by her own love for the man who had never really loved her back. She wasn’t Lily, and she didn’t want to be.

“Let go of me.” Rose’s eyes hardened and she glared at him until his hand dropped from her hair. Stepping forward she drove her pointer finger hard into his chest, and he stepped back uncertainly. “Let’s get this straight, Severus. I am not yours. I am not anybody’s. You had a chance for me to be yours, but you didn’t want me—not really—even though I loved you and gave you everything. So, don’t you dare touch me like that again.”

Snape’s gaze was impassive, and Rose’s words came from her lips with such anger he felt as though they were laced with venom. Snatching her pack up off the ground, Rose turned and fled from the classroom, wiping angry tears from her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's not going to be a lot of romantic moments with Snape, but as they are transitioning out of a relationship and given his obsession with Lily Evans there will be moments. I hope you all don't mind this chapter too much, since we don't get a lot of info on N.E.W.T.S level tests in the books, it's fun to imagine what the classes involve. This was also a good way to give some more background on Rose without doing a flashback chapter.


	7. Chapter 7

_“It is impossible to say just what I mean!  
But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen:  
Would it have been worth while  
If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,  
And turning toward the window, should say:_

_“That is not it at all,  
That is not what I meant, at all.”_

\- T.S. Eliot [The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock]

Rose woke with a knot of anxiety in her stomach and stared at the green canopy of her four poster. Today was the day: the day she met Stefan Dolohov. Emerging from her bed, Rose locked eyes with Mari who grinned at her knowingly. Rose gave her a weak smile in return before turning to pull out the emerald green dress robes her mother had sent her. The outer robes were made of a beautiful crushed velvet edged in a thick black border. The dress she wore underneath was simple black with an empire waistline—the bodice embroidered with spiraling patterns of silver thread. The bodice had a gently scooping neckline that cut just low enough to expose the top of her cleavage, but not so much as to be tasteless. Rose was grateful her mother had seen fit to send her dress robes rather than an expensive gown. At least in robes she would feel less out of place among the other students.

“Do you want help with your hair?” Mari asked, having already changed into casual black robes that blended beautifully with her dark hair and contrasted with her pale skin.

“Please,” Rose managed, doing her best to not look queasy. Mari combed out Rose’s red curls that, with the help of the magic comb, now fell just past her shoulders. As she worked on Rose’s hair, Rose applied modest amounts of makeup to her face. When Mari had finished, her hair was pulled back from her face in a half knot, long curls hanging loosely past her shoulders. The last thing Rose did was put the diamond studs in her ears and clasp the choker around her neck. The necklace was truly beautiful, thickest in the front, with teardrop pearls dangling into the hallow of her throat. A simple long necklace was paired with it, a diamond and teardrop pearl resting on a long delicate chain just above her cleavage. When she stood up and looked in the mirror, Rose could barely recognize herself.

“You look hot as hell,” Mari complimented, and Rose managed a dry laugh, squeezing her friend’s hand gratefully. Descending the stairs into the common room, Rose held her head high and tried to ignore the stares of her classmates. To her surprise, Draco was waiting at the bottom of the steps, dressed in nice robes though not as fancy as hers of course. His blonde hair was slicked back from his face. He smiled cheekily at her and offered her the arm that wasn’t still wrapped in a bandage.

“Can I escort you, sister?” He asked with a charming smile, and Rose grinned gratefully, wrapping her arm around his. ‘ _When had he gotten so tall_ ,’ she thought to herself? Though she was still a few inches taller than her brother, it wouldn’t be long now before he would outpace her.

“Mother and father tell you to keep an eye on me?” She asked as they walked towards the entrance, Mari trailing behind.

“Of course.”

“What are you going to tell them?”

“That you showed everyone at this sad excuse for a school what it truly means to be a Malfoy heiress.”

“Let’s hope Dolohov sees that too.”

“He’d be a fool not to.” A wolf-whistle cut through the air as they walked through the front entrance to see Sam and Ava waiting for them. Rose rolled her eyes at Sam but couldn’t help laughing. Draco scrunching up his nose at her.

“I’ll be escorting my sister today.” Draco informed them as Mari joined Sam and Ava.

“Yes, yes, we know we’re not invited,” Sam waved him off dismissively. “We just wanted to say good luck Rose.”

“You look beautiful,” Ava assured her with a grin.

“Knock him dead,” Mari commanded in her imperious tone of voice.

“Will do,” Rose smiled.

“We’ll see you later and you can tell us all about it,” Ava said as the three turned to leave. Rose watched them go sadly as she and Draco started their own walk to Hogsmeade. She wished she was going with them in her normal robes to spend a carefree day with her friends. Shivering, she clung closer to Draco as they walked. The cold Halloween day was gray and overcast, with a bitter wind that cut right through the thin dress robes she was wearing.

She saw him first from a distance, standing besides the door to the Three Broomsticks. The wind was whipping at his black robes, but he looked unmovable in them. He stood stiff and straight, his whole body one of sharp angles and chiseled lines. He had black hair, cut short on the sides and back, the longer strands on top slicked back away from his face. His nose was thin and pointed and his eyes were an ashy green that stared at her from beneath dark brows. As they approached, he struck her as both serious and formal, and Rose breathed out a shaky breath, trying to quiet the roiling emotions in her head. ‘ _I am a Malfoy. I am the daughter of Lucius and Narcissa. I can do this._ ’ Her internal mantra filled her with strength and resolve. Raising her chin slightly, Rose looked straight into his eyes and gave him a charming smile. She was surprised to find it quickly returned to her.

“Mr. Malfoy,” Stefan greeted Draco first. “Thank you for escorting your beautiful sister this far. If I might be so bold as to take her off your hands?”

Draco disentangled her arm from his, and Stefan took her hand in his gloved one, wrapping her arm around his. Draco leaned over and kissed her cheek before taking leave of them. And suddenly it was just herself and Dolohov left standing there together and even though she was a Malfoy and the daughter of Lucius and Narcissa, Rose’s nerves returned to her.

“Shall we go inside? You look cold.” Rose nodded gratefully at his suggestion and Stefan escorted her inside, surprising her by leading her past the tables, up the stairs, and into a private room. Rose’s temper flared at the sight of the bed in the corner but she quickly deflated when he led her to a small table that had been set with food and drink and pulled her chair out for her. Before taking a seat, Stefan took off his heavy fur lined cloak and draped it over the back of his chair. He then uncorked an open and chilled bottle of white wine and poured some into each of their glasses.

“I’d like to apologize that our first meeting should take place in as poor accommodations as this. Were you not a student I would have taken you to a restaurant more appropriate to your status.” Stefan told her, sipping from his glass. Rose, who had always been rather partial to the Three Broomsticks sipped her wine and didn’t comment, trying not to wrinkle her nose at the sweet vintage he had chosen.

“Thank you for meeting with me Mister Dolohov, I hope it wasn’t too much of an inconvenience.”

“Not at all, and, please, Roselin, call me Stefan.” He replied dismissively. They both picked at their food, occasionally sipping their wine. By the way he was barely eating as well, Rose realized that Stefan must also be nervous and that endeared him to her quite a bit. However, it didn’t change the stiff formality in the air between them or make the stilted conversations any easier to have.

“How do you like the Department of Magical Law Enforcement? I heard you’re the youngest wizard to seat the Wizengamot in some time.”

“Ah, yes, it was rather a bear getting a job there to begin with, what with Minister Bones as the Head and all. But after working as her aid for long enough she began to recognize my talents.” Stefan recounted, and Rose realized he must have been referring to his uncle Antonin Dolohov being convicted and imprisoned as a Death Eater. They lapsed into silence again.

“When you’re my wife, you’ll be expected to have some small thing to occupy your time. I have no patience for a woman who has nothing to do. Do you have any thoughts on what that might be? Your father didn’t seem to know what plans you had?” Rose’s face flushed at this statement and she took another much larger sip of wine, finishing her glass. ‘ _When you’re my wife_ ,’ she thought to herself. ‘ _Is it already decided_?’ At least he was encouraging her to do something and not sit at home all day drinking with other pureblood women.

“I… I’m not sure exactly what I’d like to do. Transfiguration is my favorite subject, and I thought of teaching for a while, but that doesn’t seem quite right. I think I’d like to help expand the field, but I’m not sure what opportunities I’d have for that.” Rose was surprised by the honest response that spilled out of her. She knew it wasn’t sexy or powerful to not have a clear answer, but Stefan didn’t seem upset. Instead he refilled her glass of wine, tapped his chin thoughtfully, and examined her with ashen eyes.

“Hmm, let me do some asking around, and I will let you know what I find out.” Silence again. The two continued eating and drinking. Rose tried not to drink her second glass of wine too quickly, but found the glass quickly emptied with how frayed her nerves had become. Dolohov seemed to be working himself up to something, and Rose quietly sat there waiting to see what he had to say. To her surprise he pulled out a velvet jewelry box and offered it to her. Rose took it delicately, flipping the lid open to see a thin gold ring sitting in the cushion. It was unadorned but looked old and was beautifully inscribed with a leaf and vine pattern.

“That was my grandmother’s,” Dolohov informed her. “I will of course have a more appropriate ring made, but I thought you might enjoy that one. She passed a few years ago, a sweet kind woman, and I know she’d want my wife to have it.”

“Thank you, Stefan,” Rose told him sincerely, choking back the panic that was rising in her throat. It was a sweet gesture, and the ring was beautiful, but Rose could not find the strength to take it out of the box and try it on. Instead she slipped the box into the sleeve of her robe. He didn’t seem to mind, swirling the last of his wine and downing it in one gulp. He surprised her by standing and throwing his cloak over his shoulders. Rose hurriedly stood as well, her plate barely picked over.

“I will inform your father that I accept you. I believe our mothers will then make the arrangements. You will meet my parents over your Christmas holidays.”

Rose nodded; her throat so tight she couldn’t say anything. Stefan stepped suddenly close to her, grasping one of her hands in his own. He was only a couple inches taller than her, so that she barely had to tilt her chin up to look into his eyes. For a moment she thought to herself ‘ _he’s going to kiss me_ ,’ but he only lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles formally before dropping her hand and stepping back.

“It was lovely meeting you Roselin.”

“—And you,” Rose replied, but by the time she found her voice he had already swept from the room.

It wasn’t long before Rose followed, nearly running out of the Three Broomsticks and back up the street towards Hogwarts. She had expected the meeting to last much longer, barely an hour had passed. Rose wrapped her arms around herself, trying to calm her breathing and warm herself against the cold. Was this really how it was going to be? They had just met, barely talked, shown no romantic interest in one another, and now they were going to go forward with the engagement? Rose’s thoughts flickered back to the bed in the room, now wishing that at least somewhere in the back of Stefan’s mind, he had hoped to use it, but she couldn’t believe that was the case.

She knew that pureblood marriages were often marriages of convenience. Narcissa herself had told Rose that love often came after the wedding. Thinking of Mariko and Parker, Rose fought back tears. Was it too much to hope for a husband whom she loved and who loved her back? Thoughts came to her then unbidden. Thoughts of Severus holding her in his arms, the way she’d felt so safe and loved. Shaking her head, Rose tried to wipe all images of Snape from her mind. But in their place came thoughts of Remus. The feeling of his warm hands against her own. The rough texture of his scarred and stubbled cheek beneath her lips. The sound of his voice as he read her poetry. The infectious laughter and boyish grin that made her stomach flip. The quiet companionship of sitting together in his office and looking over papers.

It wasn’t long before she found herself entering the castle and hurrying along the corridors to his office. Moving so quickly, she barely registered Harry Potter walking out of the classroom. Usually the sight of Harry left a sour taste in her mouth, but today she didn’t care. Climbing the stairs to his office, she shoved the door open, and Lupin looked up at her in surprise, the smile on his face quickly changing to one of concern as he looked up at her. Rose opened her mouth to speak, closed it again, and just stood their shaking. Remus moved to her quickly.

“Rose, what is it? What’s wrong?” His warm hands were touching her face, and Rose closed her eyes at the feel of his rough palms against her cheeks. “Merlin, you’re freezing.”

Rose let herself be ushered through the tapestry, into his private rooms, where a blazing fire was going. He sat her on the couch, disentangling his fingers from hers. In a moment he had returned and thrown one of his own traveling cloaks around her, sitting down next to her, one arm lingering around her shoulders uncertainly. Rose twisted and buried her head in his chest, her arms wrapping around his torso. Lupin stiffened in surprise before enfolding her in his embrace, his head tucked safely beneath his chin, his hands rubbing her back gently. She wasn’t sure how long he held her for, but it wasn’t until he pulled back and lifted a hand to wipe her tears from her face that she realized she’d been crying.

“Now, Rose,” he said softly, his warm blue eyes capturing hers comfortingly, the fingers that had wiped her tears now holding her hand. “Tell me what this is all about.”

And she did. Still pressed into his side, she told him all about her meeting with Dolohov. Told him how little they seemed to care for one another, how they were now presumably engaged, how her opinion on the matter had never once been asked. Remus’ hand clenched her own tighter, and his face was pale, lips pressed together tightly as she finished telling him about the day’s events. Standing up, he moved to a cupboard beside the mantle, and Rose could hear the clinking of glasses. When he turned back, he held a bottle of red wine in one hand and two wine glasses in the other.

“I shouldn’t be doing this, but… I think we could both use a drink.” Remus poured her a glass, their fingers brushing as he handed it to her before pouring his own and settling an appropriate distance from her on the couch. Rose immediately missed the warmth of his body, and she pulled his patched travel cloak closer around her. She quickly gulped down half the glass of wine, her eyes closed in appreciation, lips parting slightly after she swallowed. When she opened them again, she was startled to find Remus’ gaze locked on hers. She hadn’t noticed before that he was dressed more casually today in slacks and a button down, the shirt unbuttoned low enough to expose graying chest hair, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows showing off silvery scars that ran down each forearm. Lounging against the arm of the couch like that, he looked incredibly sexy. A cheeky grin crossed his face at the dark blush that rose to her cheeks, and Rose quickly broke eye contact.

Remus sipped his wine as he watched Rose, trying to chase away the voice in his head that was shouting at him. She had looked so beautiful sitting in the firelight in her dress robes, wrapped in his own cloak, her eyes closed and lips parted as she savored the taste of wine. He could still feel the softness of her body against his from when she had leaned into him—the way she fit perfectly in his arms. Could still feel her breath against his neck. And when she had opened her eyes again, he couldn’t help grinning at the way her eyes roved across his body, the scent of her arousal filling his nostrils. Merlin, she was intoxicating.

“Professor, what should I do?” Her question was like a bucket of ice water in his face. He looked away from her wide hazel eyes, taking a moment to gulp down some of his wine.

‘ _You stupid, stupid old man_ ,’ he thought to himself, ‘ _she came here because she trusts you. She’s lonely and afraid and you are taking advantage of her trust_.’

“I’m not sure that’s for me to say, Rose,” he answered at last, still not looking at her. “That’s for you to decide. What is it you want?” Rose looked torn at this, her eyes downcast and hands trembling around the wine glass. She quickly took a few more gulps, looking at Lupin hopefully when she drained the last drops. Hesitantly, Lupin poured her a second glass.

“I want to make my parents proud.” Rose answered slowly after a moment, and Lupin found himself clenching his hands in agitation.

“At the cost of your own happiness?” He asked, trying to keep his voice neutral, but Rose sensed the underlying tension in it and her eyes narrowing at him.

“They wouldn’t have picked a husband for me who would make me miserable.” She said defensively, her head beginning to buzz from the amount of wine she had been drinking so quickly on an empty stomach.

“But did they pick someone you can love?” He argued back, irritated that even in this she was not willing to stand up to Lucius and Narcissa.

“My mother often says that love comes later—”

“And what if it doesn’t?”

“Why do you care,” she snapped at him, getting angry now. “You said it was my decision and now you’re criticizing everything I say.” Lupin opened and closed his mouth, angry because she was right but also angry at her for so quickly giving in to a decision that had caused her to run into his office in tears.

“Lily and James would have wanted their daughter—” it was the wrong thing to say. Rose slammed the wine glass down on the coffee table so hard, Remus was shocked it didn’t shatter. Turning a sneering expression upon him that rivaled one of Snape’s, Rose stood and put her hands on her hips.

“Lily and James are dead. If they wanted a say in my life, then they shouldn’t have gotten themselves killed.”

“Killed by Voldemort,” Remus roared at her, his own temper breaking. Rose took a step back as Lupin stood, flinching when he used Voldemort’s name. She was surprised at the dark look of anger and resentment that covered his face. She had never seen him make an expression like that before. “Killed by the person your so-called parents helped support! Killed while they were trying to protect you!”

“Protect me?! My last memories of Lily were of her shoving me in a closet while she stood in front of Harry and pleaded for his life. Never once did she say anything about me! And after they died, after they were too weak to save us, no one gave a damn about me until the Malfoys brought me home and gave me a place to live. So, don’t you dare question their love for me!”

Rose stormed out of his office, fuming. Lupin smashed the wine glass off his table at her departure, listening to it shatter on the floor. He gripped his hair in his hands in frustration, immediately regretting the fight. It was the week of the full moon and he was beginning to feel tired and irritable and the way she had dismissed Lily and James out of hand had made him so angry. And he was angry with himself too, angry for the way he had reacted to her when she had first arrived, angry at himself for pushing his advice on her when it was her choice that mattered, and, if he was honest, angry that part of himself dared to imagine what it might be like to have her at his side.

‘ _You stupid, stupid old fool. She is not for you. She is too beautiful, too precious for a tired old werewolf.’_


	8. Chapter 8

_“You cannot look in his eyes  
Because your pulse must not say  
What must not be said.  
When he  
Shuts a door-  
Is not there  
Your arms are water.  
And you are free  
With a ghastly freedom.  
You are the beautiful half  
Of a golden hurt.”_

\- Gwendolyn Brooks [To Be in Love]

Rose skipped the Halloween Feast to spend an uninterrupted hour in the prefect’s bath. She was still angry from the fight earlier that day and didn't want to sit in the hall and look up to see Lupin’s stupid handsome face at the staff table. Though part of her felt guilty for the way she had spoken to him, the much larger rather spoiled, ice princess part of herself that she had been working hard to cultivate all these years did not give a shit. Lupin was asking her to fill the role of Lily and James’ child just as much as Lucius and Narcissa were asking her to fill the role of pureblood heiress. The difference was that she loved her parents and owed them for being so good to her and for giving her a home and a family. Lupin, she’d known for barely a month.

‘ _Has it really only been a month?’_ She thought to herself in surprise, sinking lower in the bubbly water.

It felt much longer. She was so comfortable around him, his cheeky smile always putting her at ease, his warm eyes always full of a sincerity that made her feel naked and vulnerable. Lupin’s sincerity always shocked her, and it was dangerously infectious. She had been raised to keep her true desires and feelings under control and play them close to her chest. If you were too open, if you weren’t careful enough, people would use them to manipulate and control you. When it came down to it, she just didn’t trust his sincerity. Everyone had something they kept secret, what was he hiding?

Splashing the water petulantly, Rose stood, water droplets dripping down her body as she stepped out of the bath. Reaching for her wand she cast a drying charm on herself, feeling hot air wash over her skin. Scrunching her still damp curls, Rose then slid on her white tank top and blue cotton pajama shorts, throwing her school robe on over the top. The corridors were dark and quiet. ‘ _Strange_ ,’ she thought. The feast should be over by now and the hallways swarming with students returning to their common rooms. Perhaps she had misjudged the time. Still, something about it set her teeth on edge and her hand found her wand in her robe pocket. Rose could feel hairs rising on the back of her neck and when she looked down one of the side corridors, she swore she saw the glimmering of eyes in the dark.

“H-hello? Who’s there?” She asked, trying to keep her voice as commanding as possible. ‘ _It's probably just one of the damn ghosts_.’ Whatever it was, it seemed to have moved on quickly.

“Rose!” She turned to see Professor Lupin running up the corridor to her, his face whiter and more tired than she had ever seen him, and there was something else in his eyes too—fear? She expected him to stop when he got to her, but instead he engulfed her in an embrace that took the breath from her lungs. Rose stood there in shock as his arms held her so tight it almost hurt. She realized he was shaking.

“Professor, what is it? What’s wrong?” Pulling back slightly, Lupin still held onto her upper arms tightly, looking her over to check and see if she was injured. Rose felt a light blush rising to her face at the lack of clothing she had on beneath her robes, but he didn’t seem to even notice.

‘ _You’re supposed to be angry with him_ ,’ a voice in her head reminded her, but his blue eyes full of fear and worry melted that voice away.

“Sirius Black,” Lupin said hoarsely. “He broke into Gryffindor tower. When we couldn’t find you we feared….” Lupin closed his eyes briefly and swallowed. When they opened again, he was much calmer. He released her, stepping away, but one hand took her own protectively. “Take out your wand, Rose, and stay alert.”

The whole way to the Great Hall, Rose stuck close to his side, her hand in his. They passed corridors cautiously, turning corners with half held breaths. Rose could feel the ice in her own heart. Sirius Black had gotten into Hogwarts. She had been warned by her parents that as a Potter she could be a target for Black who was deranged after years in Azkaban. It had always seemed so abstract to her, but now he was here. Remus didn’t let go of her hand until they arrived at the Great Hall where McGonagall ushered her, white-faced, through the doors.

“Thank, Merlin!” Ava barreled into her, wrapping Rose in a strong hug that she gratefully returned. “We told Professor Lupin you had gone to use the prefect’s bath. We were all so worried about you!”

“I’m fine Ava,” Rose assured her friend. Glancing over her shoulder, Rose’s stomach dropped slightly when she saw that Lupin was no longer there, but she brushed the thought away. He was helping the other teachers to search for Black. She hoped they would all be safe.

“Malfoy! There you are,” Rose turned to see a very self-important looking Percy Weasley striding over to her. “What on earth are you wearing?”

“What do you want Weasley,” Rose muttered, pulling her robe closed over her pajamas.

“Professor Dumbledore left us in charge of getting everyone settled for the night,” he gestured at the side of the hall where some prefects were handing out purple sleeping bags. Rose looked around and realized how chaotic the room was for the first time. There were plenty of children crying while others were sitting around talking in fearful whispers and others still had decided to pull out a game of gobstones or laugh raucously with friends.

“Okay,” Rose nodded at him. “Let’s do this.”

It took a while but between herself, Percy, and the other prefects they finally got everyone settled into sleeping bags. They had arranged the sixth- and seventh-year students closest to the entrances with the youngest ones in the middle. She and Percy alternated taking periodic laps around the hall, and Rose ignored that Sam and Ava had pulled their sleeping bags close together; Ava was already asleep in Sam’s arms.

“Do you think they’ll find him?” Mari asked her quietly when Rose returned to the front of the hall and Percy had left to do his lap.

“I doubt it if they haven’t already.” Rose answered in a whisper and the two lapsed into silence for a while.

“You two, a little distance if you please!” They heard Percy’s scandalized voice from across the hall.

“Eat a dick, Weasley,” came Sam’s grumpy reply, and Mari and Rose snickered under their breaths.

“I thought you were going to join us in Honeydukes after you met with Dolohov,” Mari said, turning to Rose. “And then to skip the feast like that… was he awful?”

“No… no, he wasn’t awful. He was very polite actually.” Rose pulled the velvet box out of her robe pocket and offered it to Mariko. Taking it, she flipped it open and squealed. Tired students nearby shot the two scathing looks and Rose shushed her.

“Is it official then?”

“He said he’d talk to my parents.”

“The ring is rather plain though.”

“It was his grandmother’s, he said he’d have another one made.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet,” Mari said, looking at the ring again. “Go ahead, put it on!”

Reluctantly, Rose reached out and took the ring. Not able to bring herself to put it on her ring finger, she slid it onto the middle finger of her right hand. The two admired it together for a moment. It really was a beautiful ring. Mariko examined Rose’s face closely and her eyes narrowed slyly.

“But…”

“But what?”

“Come on, Rose, it’s written all over your face. He was very polite, but….” Rose sighed and mussed her curls with one hand.

“We just didn’t seem to have much in common.”

“It was a first date. You’ll get to know each other better.”

“Yes, but… we didn’t, I didn’t, well… there were no sparks.” Mari snickered under her breath, and Rose glared at her, whispering harshly, “What!?”

“You’re so cute, you know that.” Mari told her, patting her hand.

“Shut the fuck up Mari.”

“Oh, calm down.” Mari told her, flipping her long black hair over her shoulder. “Wait till you both get a few good drinks in you. It’s not like he’s unattractive.”

“No, but he didn’t seem very interested in me either. He didn’t even kiss me.”

“Did you want him to?” Mari asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, no, but it would have been nice to know he wanted to try.” Mari continued to snicker, and Rose punched her on the shoulder.

“Ouch,” Mari exclaimed, rubbing her arm.

“I just want what you and Parker have.”

“You worry too much, Rose. It will happen. And if it doesn’t, there’s no rule saying you can’t take someone else to your bed once you’re married.”

“I think there is a rule about that actually,” Rose replied dryly, but Mariko waved her statement off like it didn’t matter.

“Plenty of people do.”

“Like who?”

“Well, like my parents.” Rose was slightly shocked by this information as Mr. and Mrs. Arai always seemed very happy together. “And… if I’m honest, I’m pretty sure Narcissa and Lucius—”

“Shut-up, Mari.” Rose muttered, but there was no venom in her voice. She was not so ignorant as to never suspect that her parents were having affairs from time to time. There was a reason they had wanted to adopt rather than try for another child. But, as a daughter, there were some issues you tended to ignore.

“Just make sure the only babies you have are your husband’s.”

“Thank you, Mari.” Rose replied sarcastically, and the girl shrugged nonchalantly.

“I’m going to get some sleep unless you’d like to complain more about having a rich, powerful, attractive husband,” Mari raised an eyebrow at her, and Rose shook her head, blushing slightly. She was grateful for Mari—for someone who knew the world she lived in and what was expected of daughters like them. It made the whole thing seem much less scary, and Rose felt childish now for how she’d reacted earlier in the day.

‘ _It will happen. And if it doesn’t, there’s no rule saying you can’t take someone else to your bed once you’re married._ ’ Mari’s words rang in her ears as thoughts of Remus’ mischievous smile and unbuttoned shirt came unbidden to her mind. Shaking her head, Rose twisted the ring on her finger distractedly.

‘ _He’s your teacher, you idiot. And he was friends with Lily and James._ ’ Besides, she somewhat doubted that Remus Lupin would be very interested in being the other man to a married woman.

Rose stood, guarding the entrance, sending some sleepy fifth year prefects to bed. It was around three in the morning when Professor Dumbledore walked in. Dumbledore’s normally irritatingly sparkly blue eyes looked subdued and tired as he thanked her and Percy for keeping watch over the students and let Percy know that the Gryffindors would be able to return to their common room the following day with a new portrait standing guard. Towards the end of their conversation, Snape walked into the hall and came up to the three of them. Severus’ dark eyes lingered on her for a long moment, and Rose nodded slightly, indicating that she was alright. Some tension around the corners of his mouth lessened but immediately returned when his eyes noticed the ring on her right hand.

‘ _Damn that man_ ,’ she thought, ‘ _he doesn’t miss a thing._ ’

“Headmaster,” Snape greeted. “The whole of the third floor has been searched.” Dumbledore went through the different areas of Hogwarts with Snape, but it seemed as though Black was nowhere to be found.

“Very well Severus, I didn’t really expect Black to linger.”

“Have you any theory as to how he got in, professor?”

“Many, Severus, each of them as unlikely as the next.”

“You remember the conversation we had, Headmaster, just before the start of term?”

“I do Severus.” Dumbledore replied, and Rose was surprised by the coldness in his tone. It was clear he didn’t want to be having this conversation in front of two students.

“It seems almost impossible that Black could have entered the school without inside help. I did express my concerns when you appointed—”

“I do not believe a single person inside this castle would have helped Black to enter it.” Dumbledore said with finality. Rose stood almost frozen as she let the conversation replay in her mind, her eyes locking with Snape’s. He had meant to have that conversation in front of her. There was no doubt as to his warning. Remus Lupin was hiding something. He was not to be trusted.

“Miss Malfoy, Mr. Weasley,” Dumbledore turned his gaze on the two of them.

“Yes, sir?” They both asked automatically, Percy with a little more pomp than Rose.

“I believe you are both aware of what Black was after in the castle tonight,” Dumbledore said with a penetrating gaze. Percy and Rose glanced at each other and then nodded to Dumbledore. Rose realized that Percy would have been told by his father who also worked in the ministry. “I will be relying on our teachers and the two of you to keep an eye on him for me.”

Percy nodded vigorously, and Rose’s nose crinkled in distaste.

“Miss Malfoy, I am aware of your feelings towards Mr. Potter, I am not asking you to resolve those feelings. I am asking you, as Hogwarts’ Head Girl to help protect one of our students.” Dumbledore held her gaze with a stern but kind expression.

“Yes, sir.” Rose replied at length, her eyes flicking to where Harry and his two Gryffindor friends lay curled up in a corner nearby. Hopefully between Percy and the teachers, Rose wouldn’t need to worry about Harry or have any unnecessary contact with him.


	9. Chapter 9

_After all, there’s no need  
_ _to say anything  
at first. An orange, peeled  
and quartered, flares  
like a tulip on a wedgewood plate  
Anything can happen.  
Outside the sun  
has rolled up her rugs  
and night strewn salt  
across the sky. My heart  
is humming a tune  
I haven’t heard in years!  
Quiet’s cool flesh—  
let’s sniff and eat it.  
There are ways  
to make of the moment  
a topiary  
so the pleasure’s in  
walking through._

\- Rita Dove [Flirtation]

A hand shaking her shoulder nearly made Rose jump out of her seat as she snapped out of her dream and back into the waking world. Students sitting around her were giggling, and Rose’s cheeks turned a bright red color. Lupin’s own tired face looked down at her sympathetically. Neither of them had gotten much sleep the previous night with the search of the castle. Rose had meant to close her eyes for just a second when she'd arrived early for class and had apparently nodded off. Her eyes flickered over to Percy who was sitting in the front row, not doing much better than she was. His head was drooping gently against his chest, and Oliver Wood elbowed him hard in the side of his ribs causing Percy to start and snap back to sudden alertness.

“Sorry, Professor,” Rose apologized with a tired smile. He quickly returned it, patting her shoulder and moving to the front of the room to begin his lecture.

“Why didn’t either of you wake me up,” Rose whispered accusingly to Mariko and Sam who sat on each side of her.

“We tried,” Sam informed her casually. “You were dead to the world.”

“You were snoring,” Mari added, causing Rose’s flushed cheeks to turn a more vibrant red.

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Only a little,” Sam said unapologetically.

“At least you weren’t drooling,” Mari grinned, and Rose lifted her textbook and smacked Mari with it.

“Ladies, please.” Professor Lupin’s tired voice wafted back to them from the front of the class. Percy turned around in his chair to glare pompously at the three of them.

“Sorry, Professor,” they chorused as he returned to his lecture. Sam flipped Percy off under her desk, and he harrumphed at her as he turned back around.

“Thus far, we have been focusing on the forces of motion in our attempts at wandless magic. Push, pull, up, down. All of you have had some level of success with one of these. As many of you have observed, pushing and pulling tend to be the easiest forms of wandless magic. Can anyone tell me why this is?” Remus lectured, and Percy Weasley’s hand shot into the air.

“That is because pushing and pulling more easily focus our _intention_ as we are directly acting upon the object _._ ” Percy explained quickly, and Rose rolled her eyes. That was a complicated way of saying, it’s easier to want something to come to you or go away from you than it is to want something to go up and down. They had all experienced this.

“Correct, Percy. Remember that wandless magic depends primarily on three things, our intention, or how clearly we understand what we are trying to do; intensity, or how much we want the outcome we are trying to create; and intuition, or how well we can manifest both intensity and intention on a subconscious level. This is why we teach wandless magic at the N.E.W.T level rather than in first year classes,” Lupin explained easily. “By this time, you have cast so many spells that they have become almost second nature to you. Learning nonverbals last year has also helped in this intuitive internalization of magic. While all of you have experienced wandless magic as children, that kind of wandless magic is uncontrolled and undirected. It is one thing for your magic to manifest in moments of stress and another to use magic for a specific purpose whenever you wish it.”

Rose blinked tiredly and began to zone out as the lecture continued. It wasn’t that Lupin’s lecture wasn’t interesting, it was just that she was so tired from staying up all night. She had managed to sleep maybe an hour or two before their morning Defense class. Rose could tell Lupin was also feeling the stress of the previous night. He looked paler than she had seen him since he’d first arrived at Hogwarts, his scars standing out starkly on his face. The circles under his eyes were so dark that they looked like bruises and the lines on his face seemed magnified. He looked easily ten years older than he was. Rose knew Lupin had health issues of some kind and hoped they weren’t flaring up.

“Today we will be moving on to wandless conjuration. This is obviously much more advanced than simply moving a preexisting object around in physical space. The easiest of the four elements to conjure is fire, can anyone tell me why? Yes, Penelope?”

“Fire has less mass than water or earth because it is gaseous, but unlike air it is still visible and thus easier to conceptualize.” Penelope Clearwater answered succinctly. Mari mimed a gagging motion at the proud look Percy threw to his girlfriend.

“Very good, Penelope.” Lupin smiled at her. “For the purpose of this exercise, I would ask that you all attempt to conjure blue flames so that if there are any accidents no one gets hurt.”

Lupin then demonstrated by conjuring a handful of blue flames that lit up his face in an unflattering way. The flickering light cast his eyes into deeper shadows and washed out his already pale skin. Rose looked down at her own hands. She had used this spell many times before but always with a wand. Blue flames were advantageous because they were water resistant and didn’t burn at the touch. It was common to see students carrying them around in jars during the winter months to stay warm. Glancing around the classroom, Rose was amused at the silence and concentration on the faces of her classmates. Percy was focusing on his palm so hard that his face was slowly turning purple. Lupin moved quietly around the room offering advice to students. She distinctly heard him tell Percy to breathe, and he seemed to deflate like a popped balloon.

‘ _Okay_ ,’ Rose thought, looking down at her wand hand. ‘ _Let’s start small_.’ Raising her index finger, Rose focused on the very tip of it. Breathing rhythmically, she tried to imagine what the spell felt like when she cast it, the way the magic seemed to rush through her veins. She tried to feel the warmth of the flames, to see their brightness, to hear the tiny crackling pops of the flames in her head. As she breathed out, Rose thought ‘ _flama caeruleus_.’ To her surprise and delight a small blue flame flickered to life on her fingertip. Rose let it drop into her palm and found it was much easier to grow it into a handful of flames now that she’d successfully conjured it. The ring on her middle finger glinted in the blue light, and Rose’s concentration immediately slipped, the flames winking out of existence.

“Wonderfully done, Rose.” She heard Lupin’s soft voice in her ear as he tried not to disturb the other concentrating students. Rose turned and grinned at him proudly, excited by his praise and her success. That had felt much easier to her than pushing the pencil around on her desk had been. But it made sense, conjuration was a form of transfiguration, whereas levitation and summoning were a subset of charms—she would find easiest the type of magic she most excelled at with a wand.

“Try it a few more times and then switch to your other hand.” Rose groaned good naturedly at him and he grinned at her. This had been Lupin’s classic response to any success they’d had with wandless magic and using their non-wand hand was significantly harder. Rose had taken to practicing casting basic and intermediate spells with her wand in her left hand to see if it would help. So far, no luck. As Lupin wandered away, Mari glared at her.

“How did you manage that so quickly?” Rose shrugged in response, returning to focusing on repeating the accomplishment. By the end of class and feeling significantly more frustrated, Rose still hadn’t managed to conjure the flames again with either hand. She stuffed her books roughly back into her bag in annoyance.

“At least you were able to conjure them once,” Sam said brightly, ever the optimist; she had managed a few blue sparks by the end of the class. Mariko still had a pinched look to her face that her friends had managing it so quickly. As the three headed towards the exit, Rose stopped when Professor Lupin called her back.

“I’ll see you both later,” Rose told them, turning back to Lupin who was sitting tiredly at his desk. Lupin chuckled at the annoyance that was still evident on her face.

“You’ll get it again, Rose, you needn’t worry.”

“It’s just frustrating that it came so easily the first time. Why can’t I manage it again?”

“You’re likely overthinking it, remember, _intuition_.” Rose sighed moodily at this but nodded. She guessed she understood that. While magic had always come to her best in its scientific and logical forms like in alchemy and transfiguration, Rose understood how important intuition was for things like Quidditch. If she overthought what she was doing on the pitch, she tended to flounder. It was on days where everything seemed to sync up between her mind, body, and broom, that she was at her best as a chaser.

“Are you… feeling alright, sir?” Rose asked hesitantly, not wanting to offend Lupin. He just smiled his tired smile at her, running a hand through his graying hair.

“Nothing you need to worry about, my dear. I was wondering if you had another day earlier this week to help get some grading done. My illness… well let’s just say it tends to get worse before it gets better, and I’d like to get some work done before it gets too bad. I don’t want to inconvenience you too much though, I know Slytherin is set to play Gryffindor this weekend.” It was true that Flint had scheduled them for extra practices this week in preparation for the match.

“I’m free now, sir, unless you have another class…? Are you sure you shouldn’t be resting?”

“Don’t worry about me, Rose, I’ve been handling this for a long time. I can have Wilpey bring us up some food if you’re willing to stay.”

“Of course, sir. Maybe some coffee too if you don’t mind, I don’t think tea is going to cut it today.” Remus nodded with a smile and the two moved up to his office and began sifting through a stack of papers. It didn’t escape her notice that some of them were very recently written.

‘ _He must be serious about this getting worse then_ ,’ Rose thought to herself, otherwise they could have easily graded them later in the week. They both took a quick break when Wilpey arrived with their food and coffee. Lupin wrinkled his nose at the brown liquid, slowly adding sugar cube after sugar cube to the drink. Rose, who preferred her coffee black, stared at him in concern.

“How have you not had a heart attack, yet?” She asked in mock bemusement. Remus grinned at her, stirring the sugar into his drink.

“I don’t know how you drink coffee like that,” he said with a shudder.

“Because I’m an adult.” She answered pointedly eliciting another grin from him.

“If that’s what it means to be an adult then I’ll pass.” He smiled and they both drank their respective coffees, lapsing back into silence. While the coffee helped Rose perk back up slightly, it seemed to have no tangible effect on Lupin who soon fell sleep with his cheek propped on his hand, the other still clutching an essay. Rose observed him quietly for a while, sipping at a second cup of coffee. He looked so peaceful while he was sleeping, as if the worries he carried around with him during the day fell from his shoulders. Was he really someone she couldn’t trust? Had Snape been exaggerating because he didn’t like Lupin? The man looked so sweet and adorable sleeping there. The unnerving sensation of butterflies in her stomach made her quickly look away from him. She decided to continue grading and let him sleep.

When Rose was nearly done with the pile, Lupin’s head slipped from his hand and he woke with a start, crinkling the essay he was holding. Looking around with wide eyes, Lupin saw that nearly an hour had passed, and he turned his gaze to Rose accusingly.

“You should have woken me.”

“You needed the sleep,” she told him with a shrug. Lupin began smoothing out the wrinkles he’d put into the essay he’d been grading; carefully flattening it on the desk. “Next time I fall asleep in class you can leave me alone, how’s that?”

Lupin let out a bark of laughter, grinning at her. “I would have been happy to let you sleep if you were doing it quietly.”

“No way,” Rose moaned, holding her face in her hands. “I thought Sam and Mari were putting me on! Was I really snoring?”

“Very quietly,” he told her, the grin never falling from his face. “It was cute actually.”

Both of their faces went slightly pink at this statement, and they broke eye contact, each looking in the opposite direction. They were saved from further embarrassment by Lupin’s door opening. Rose quickly returned her gaze to the essay in her lap as Snape walked in carrying a smoking goblet. She heard him pause as he saw her before walking all the way into the room.

“Hello, Severus,” Lupin greeted amiably. Rose could practically feel the sneer on Snape’s face.

“Lupin. Do you always have a Potter keeping you company?” Snape sneered. Rose looked up at him sharply. Snape never referred to her as Potter. She glanced to Remus for elaboration.

“Harry was in here with me yesterday when Severus came by,” he explained, and Rose nodded. She must have just missed Snape when she came to his office yesterday. Rose was very grateful for this as she didn’t think she could have handled the encounter. “You can set that here for me Severus.”

Snape set the goblet down on the desk directly in front of Rose, nowhere near where Remus had gestured, before turning and walking out. Remus scowled at Snape’s retreating back. Reaching over, he slid the goblet full of the smoking blue potion across the desk. Lifting it, he mimed a silent cheers to Rose and then gulped it back quickly, wincing and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Disgusting.” He informed her.

“Looked like it,” Rose agreed with a smile. Even with his nose wrinkled in disgust, he still looked adorable. “Why does Se—Professor Snape dislike you do much?”

Lupin considered her for a moment, running his hand through his hair before answering. “Severus and I were classmates at school. We ran in… different circles and didn’t really get along.”

Rose nodded slowly, imagining that there was quite a bit more to the story than he was telling her but not wanting to press too much. She knew from personal experience that Severus Snape could hold a grudge.


	10. Chapter 10

_And were you lost, I would be,  
Though my name   
Rang loudest   
On the heavenly fame. _

_And were you saved,  
And I condemned to be   
Where you were not,   
That self were hell to me. _

_So we must keep apart,  
You there, I here,   
With just the door ajar   
That oceans are,   
And prayer,   
And that pale sustenance,   
Despair!_

\- Emily Dickinson [I Cannot Live With You]

“Fuck off, Wood,” Rose snarled at Oliver under her breath as he glared at her once again from a desk off to her right. He’d been doing this on and off for the entire lesson thus far and it was really gotting on her nerves.

“Ten points from Slytherin. I do not allow that kind of language in my classroom Miss Malfoy,” McGonagall leveled a stern look in her direction. ‘ _Damn her hearing_.’

“Yes, Professor, I’m sorry.” Rose said sincerely, and McGonagall turned back to the board. Oliver shot her a superior look and Rose, taking a page out of Sam’s book, flipped him off—the patented Malfoy sneer on her face. Oliver Wood was currently angry with the Slytherin Quidditch team for managing to switch the lineup so that Gryffindor was now playing Hufflepuff the next day. Rose had noticed that McGonagall had also been treating her a little more frostily since the announcement. Unlike Severus Snape, she wouldn’t hold a grudge, but it was very telling how important Quidditch was to all at Hogwarts that the switch had impacted the usually unbiased woman's attitude towards Rose at all.

Rose rubbed the bridge of her nose with her fingers in irritation. She hadn’t known about Draco and Flint’s plan to use his arm injury from being attacked by the hippogriff earlier in the year to switch when they would be playing. Given the raging thunderstorm that was going on outside, Rose would be very grateful not to be flying around if the weather didn’t change tomorrow. In addition to that, the Quidditch match was taking place the morning after Rose’s Herbology class was set to harvest various plants under the light of the full moon. Instead of meeting during the day, Professor Sprout was expecting them in the greenhouses that night to best utilize the potency of certain plants that followed the lunar cycle. As such, Rose was oscillating between being annoyed with Flint and her brother for putting off the match she felt ready for, and grateful to them for not having a Quidditch match to add to what had already been a very stressful week.

It was when Draco pulled these kinds of stunts that she worried the most about him though. It wasn’t that she had a problem with the outcome of his actions, it was how he went about doing it. This had always been Lucius Malfoy’s contention with his son as well. Draco lacked subtlety. He didn’t understand the difference between accomplishing a goal and accomplishing it without anyone realizing you’ve had a hand in it. He was often artless and tactless in his scheming, hitting with too broad a stroke rather than cutting with the fine precision of a master duelist.

Rose shook her head and returned her focus to McGonagall’s lesson where they were soon partnered with one another and took turns transfiguring themselves into animals so that their partner could untransfigure them back into humans. Rose hated the feeling of transfiguring herself into an animal. Unlike an animagus transformation, transfiguration into an animal reduced your intelligence to that of the animal itself. This was one of the reasons that those attempting an animagus transformation were supervised so carefully. No one wanted to be trapped as an animal forever. None of them were perfectly successful at untransfiguring their partner. Rose had mistakenly thought she’d successfully untransfigured Percy only to realize he still had whiskers. It was still better than the ferret’s tail and the patches of hair all over her body that he had left her with. McGonagall waved her wand at the two of them, putting the pair to rights before ending class.

“Miss Malfoy,” McGonagall called to her before she left, and Rose turned curiously. “I wonder if you could escort Mr. Potter between his next class. He should be leaving Defense Against the Dark Arts shortly.”

“But Percy…”

“Mr. Weasley has been escorting Mr. Potter around all week.” McGonagall cut her off with a stern expression. And Rose nodded reluctantly. She didn’t really want Professor McGonagall more upset with her.

Rose walked grumpily to the DADA classroom, hoping to get this over with as quickly as possible. She arrived just in time for the class of Gryffindors to pour out of the room complaining loudly to each other. Emerging last were Harry and his two friends—Ron and Hermione, she thought their names were. Harry froze when he saw her.

“Oh no, not you, too.” Harry glared, and Rose rolled her eyes at him. “It was bad enough with just the teachers and Percy.”

“I’m not any happier about it than you are,” Rose assured him with a shrug. “What’s the matter with all of you; from the way Draco’s been carrying on I thought you all adored Lupin?”

“It wasn’t Lupin,” said the younger Weasley with absolute venom in his voice. “It was that stupid git, Snape.”

“Ron!” Hermione chastised, looking at Rose and the Head Girl badge she wore nervously.

“Snape?” Rose asked in confusion, looking through the door behind him to see Severus Snape sitting behind Lupin’s desk looking as pleased as she’d ever seen him. Her eyes shot immediately back to Harry’s. “Why was Snape teaching you?”

“He said Professor Lupin was ill,” Hermione answered before Harry could even open his mouth. “He wouldn’t tell us why. Aren’t you working with him this year? Do you know if he’s alright?”

“Professor Lupin’s health is his own business, not yours. Anyway, don’t you three have another class to go to? Let’s get a move on so we can get this over with.” Rose followed behind the three Gryffindors, ignoring the curious glances of other students at the unlikely group. The three of them spent most of the walk badly abusing Snape, phrases like “slimy git,” and “we’re nowhere close to learning about werewolves” and “scrubbing bedpans, can you believe it” being repeated _ad nauseum_. Rose found the experience oddly cathartic. Hermione would throw a nervous look over her shoulder at Rose each time they said something insensitive, but she pretended not to hear them. When they arrived at the classroom, Ron and Hermione walked quickly in, lost in conversation, but Harry hesitated and turned to her.

“What is it Potter? Not going to try for some family bonding again are you?” Harry glared at her, his green eyes narrowing in frustration. While he had tried repeatedly to get to know her in his first year after discovering they were siblings, he had given that up after realizing she wanted nothing to do with them. He half turned to go inside but stopped himself.

“I’ve seen you with Professor Lupin, you care about him, don’t you?” Rose was taken aback, taking too long to realize he didn’t mean it _that way_.

“Yes, and…?” Rose asked dismissively, Harry was obviously working himself up to something.

“I think Snape is poisoning him.”

“What?” Rose was so surprised she almost forgot to laugh at his absurd statement. Harry glared at her when she finally began to chuckle.

“I’m serious. Snape hates Lupin, and the day I was in his office he brought him this potion, and now Lupin’s fallen ill?”

“Severus Snape wouldn’t poison Professor Lupin right under Dumbledore’s nose no matter how he feels about him,” Rose told Harry dismissively. While she sounded confident, she wasn’t completely sure. What if Severus had seen more of her memories during the occlumency slip up than he was letting on? What if he had figured out the feelings, the _desires_ , she’d been having for Remus? Surely, he wouldn’t just let that go.

“Can you at least check on him?”

“I’ll consider it.”

Rose couldn’t help herself from going immediately to the hospital wing after leaving Harry at the door to his classroom. Her palms were covered in a cold sweat as she threw open the doors. Looking around at the beds, Rose didn’t see Lupin anywhere. There was a first-year student asleep in a bed who had steam pouring out of his ears, but other than that the hospital wing was completely deserted. Madam Pomfrey poked her head out of her office and frowned at Rose, looking her up and down for injury.

“Can I help you Miss Malfoy?”

“I’m sorry to bother you Madam Pomfrey, but is Professor Lupin here? I heard he was taken ill.”

“Afraid not, Malfoy. Not to worry, he should be fine in a couple of days.”

“Thank you, Madam Pomfrey.” Rose intoned hollowly, wandering back down the corridors. If Lupin wasn’t in the hospital wing that meant he was holed up in his private chambers, but she couldn’t get to those to check on him without walking through the classroom. And with Professor Snape teaching classes in there for the rest of the day that certainly wasn’t about to happen.

Instead, she wandered into the Great Hall, taking up an early seat at the Slytherin table. A spattering of students were at the tables already, most doing homework or talking quietly. Rose pulled out a tree branch and her wand and continued to try to change it into stone. So far, she had managed to transfigure the tree branch to take on the appearance of stone, but she hadn’t actually managed any real petrification. When she eventually got bored with failing miserably at that, Rose moved on to trying to conjure blue flames in her hand and quickly realized she was much too distracted to have any intention, intensity, or intuition. She settled for just rolling a pencil around on the tabletop without the use of her wand. Rose had just gotten it to revolve slowly in midair when students began to trickle in for dinner.

Mari and Parker approached the seats across from her. Mari flicked her finger at the pencil, causing it to fly down the table and imbed itself into a minced pie. Rose raised her eyebrow at her. Parker, who’d been having very little luck with wandless magic in their Defense classes looked between the two of them with a mixture of admiration and annoyance.

“How do you two do that?” He asked testily as they began loading their plates with food. Mariko and Rose locked eyes and grinned at each other.

“Intention—” began Mariko.

“Intensity—” added Rose.

“Intuition!” they chorused together. Parker rolled his eyes at the two of them.

“Very funny. I didn’t think anything would be worse than the three D’s from apparition classes. Destination, determination, deliberation,” he squeaked in a passible imitation of the apparition instructor from the previous year.

“Have you ever wondered why wizards love alliteration so much?” Mariko asked as she began cutting her food up into bite sized pieces.

“Maybe it makes things seem more magical,” Parker offered and Rose and Mariko both scoffed at this. Towards the end of dinner, the three looked up when Ava wandered over from the Ravenclaw table. Plopping down next to Rose, Ava grinned at her.

“Ready for tonight’s lesson?” Ava gushed excitedly. Rose smiled at her enthusiastic friend.

“I’m ready for it to be over so we can go to bed.”

“Oh, don’t be like that.” Ava huffed at her. Herbology had always been one of her favorite subjects, narrowly beating out Potions, likely because Professor Sprout was a much more pleasant teacher to the enthusiastic Ravenclaw than Snape was.

“Can’t help it,” Rose shrugged. “It’s been a long week, and I’m so ready for the weekend.”

“Yes well, for some of us it’s going to be an even longer week,” Ava sniffed pointedly.

“If Sam would like to come yell at me for something my brother did, she’s welcome to do it,” Rose narrowed her eyes at Ava. As one of the Hufflepuff beaters, Sam would be playing in the Quidditch match the next day and was not happy about it. Ava glanced around at all the Slytherins sitting near her and decided not to press the point.

“Are you ready to head down?” Ava asked instead.

“Sure, see you later Mari.” Rose stood, slung her bag over her shoulder, and walked towards the entrance of the hall with Ava. Some of their Herbology class were already milling about the entrance but were reluctant to be the first ones to head out into the storm. Ava and Rose looked at each other, flipping the hoods of their robes up over their faces. Rose pointed her wand tip towards the sky, a clear protective umbrella materializing from it and the two huddled together as they ran for the greenhouses—Ava lighting the way with her own wand. The two fit well under the umbrella together, being approximately the same height. Ava, who tended to slouch to disguise how tall she was around Sam, was more comfortable standing straight when it was just herself and Rose.

When they finally arrived at the greenhouses, the two were quite wet and muddy from running through puddles and from the rain which had been blown nearly horizontally into them from the intense wind. Flicking her wand at their robes, and muttering an incantation, Ava dried them off quickly. Their classmates poured in behind them, apparently emboldened to brave the rain by Rose and Ava. Professor Sprout wandered in under a heavy yellow cloak moments later, her cheeks extra rosy today from the cold wind.

“Thank you all for braving the storm. We will divide up into pairs and make a quick work of the harvest so that all of us can return to the warmth of the castle as quickly as possible,” Sprout told them good naturedly. As the class divided up, Sprout sent the pairs to different stations with instructions to record their harvests in their journals including the material of the tools they harvested with, the phase of the moon, and the amount of cloud cover. They would hand these in at the end of the lesson in order to receive full marks.

Ava and Rose carefully slid on dragonhide gloves and retrieved silver sheers and a silver trowel. This was especially important because the two had been put in the group that was harvesting aconite. The incredibly toxic plant could be harvested in numerous ways depending on what the intended purpose was for. When harvested on the full moon using silver tools, the aconite was best suited for use in the Wolfsbane potion that allowed a werewolf to keep their mind during a transformation. It was most potent on a cloudless night, but even with the storm would serve its purpose. Ava and Rose worked quickly together, gently digging up the aconite by the roots and dividing up the components of the plant—roots, leaves, and flowers. Rose loved the small purplish-blue flowers of the plant. While the roots were used in the Wide-eye potion, it was the flowers that were used in the Wolfsbane potion and gave it its distinctive coloration and bluish smoke.

Rose’s shears fell silent as she froze, replaying her last thought over again in her head. _‘Wolfsbane’s distinctive coloration and bluish smoke.’_ She could almost feel the color draining from her face as the goblet full of blue potion that Snape had set down in front of her flashed across her mind’s eye. She couldn’t be sure that was in fact the Wolfsbane potion, having only heard of the description from her herbology notes on the uses of aconite. But Rose was keenly aware that Lupin had been ingesting the potion for more than one day. Knew that he had been too sick to teach but had stayed in his quarters rather than go to the hospital wing. And, by glancing down at her lunar chart saw the irrefutable evidence that tonight was the night of the full moon.

“Are you alright, Rose, you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” Ava asked her, brown eyes full of concern. Rose smiled at Ava, assured her that she was fine, and returned to harvesting the aconite. But she was distracted, and Ava had to correct her a few times. She flicked back in her lunar cycle calendar to see that the last full moon had been the day before term started—they last time Lupin had looked particularly ill.

Was this why Snape distrusted Lupin so much? But no, it seemed too far-fetched and ridiculous. Surely Professor Dumbledore wouldn’t allow a werewolf to teach at this school. But then, Rose thought about all of the stupid crazy things Dumbledore had done—like appointing an unqualified grounds keeper as a Professor, and she suddenly wasn’t so sure. And hadn’t Harry, Ron, and Hermione been complaining to each other earlier about Snape jumping ahead in their lessons to lecture the class on werewolves? Was Lupin—the same Lupin whose smile made her heart melt and butterflies start in her stomach—really a monstrous beast? Rose was completely silent for the remainder of the lesson, and Ava kept glancing at her with concern.

“Are you alright, Rose?” Ava asked as they made their way back up to the castle.

“I’m fine, just have a bit of a stomachache,” Rose answered quickly.

“Do you want me to walk you to the hospital wing?”

“I think I’ll be okay, thanks though. ‘Night, Ava.”

“‘Night, Rose.”

As Ava turned and climbed the stairs to Ravenclaw tower, Rose looked towards the corridor that would lead her down to the dungeons and back to the Slytherin common room. She should just go to bed and forget about all of this. Lupin would be better in a couple days, and Rose could pretend nothing was wrong. They could go back to blushing each time one of them was caught staring by the other.

But part of Rose was shaking in fury. How dare they ask her to work so closely with the man, knowing what he was? How dare they tie her reputation to someone who would be so reviled and hated should his secret get out? How dare they keep her in the dark about something that could affect her safety and the safety of her classmates? And most of all, how could she—a Malfoy—have begun to fall for a man who was secretly a monster? Rose had barely registered that she was climbing stairs up to the third floor or that she was walking to the DADA classroom, barely noticed as she pushed the door of his office open, hardly thought about batting the tapestry to his private chamber aside while the lovers danced around on the cloth and the musician played his lute. It was only when Rose saw the flickering of firelight from under the crack of the door and when she felt the smooth oak beneath her hand that Rose returned to herself. Hesitating for a moment, Rose took a deep calming breath, and drew her wand.

“Ad meliora,” Rose murmured in a hoarse whisper. The lock clicked, and the door slowly swung open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember, comments make the world go round! Sorry to leave you all at a cliffhanger, hope you're enjoying the story so far.


	11. Chapter 11

_But…  
The way of love  
Is so fragile…_

_Last night…_

_I held you not so close to me  
Being only half convinced  
That you were where you wanted to be_

_You held me in a half sure way  
Sensing my indecision_

\- Leonard Nimoy [The Tree of Us]

In the moment it took for the door to open, Rose had already convinced herself that she was quite wrong about the whole situation. Already she was preparing for the embarrassment of finding a very ill Lupin on the other side of his door, shocked and annoyed that she had chosen to visit him so late at night and had barged into his private rooms without knocking. She’d already come up with her excuses, that Harry Potter had told her Snape was poisoning him, that, yes, it was quite ridiculous, but he had begged her to come check on him. That she hadn’t been able to until now because of Snape teaching classes and her own herbology lesson. Had already rehearsed in her head the sweet smile she would give him and the tone of voice she’d use to say, ‘ _I was worried about you, Professor_ ’ in order to get out of trouble.

All of these things flitted through Rose’s head as she stepped into the soft warm glow of the firelight in Lupin’s rooms and they all died as she saw what was laying on the couch. A large wolf was curled there in a sleepy mass. Everything she knew about werewolves went through her mind in that moment—their shorter snouts, their tufted tails, their thirst for human victims, how some upon being bitten would beg to be allowed to die rather than to live on as a werewolf. Rose clutched her wand tighter, her knuckles white as she stared at the beast, her heart beating wildly in her ribcage. ‘ _He’s had his potion_ ,’ she thought to herself, ‘ _he won’t attack me_.’ Would he not though? Upon discovering she had found out his secret? She remembered the words of Professor Picardy in his book _Lupine Lawlessness_ who claimed a werewolf’s bite took all sense of morality away from a person; how they became nothing more than a beast disguised in human flesh.

Rose shuddered. And she must have made some noise when she did so because the werewolf raised its sleepy head and glanced her direction. They both froze as their eyes met and the werewolf quickly got to its feet, jumped down from the couch, and backed up against the far corner. Rose could see now the way its fur coat was the same brown and gray coloration as Lupin’s own hair. She could see, even from this distance the smaller pupiled more human eyes of the werewolf’s face. Blue eyes that looked just like Lupin’s. It was unnerving and slightly nauseating to see his eyes looking back at her from the face of a wolf. And its eyes were large and terrified, continuing to flit between her face and her wand. Rose stepped forward towards the center of the room and the werewolf pushed back into the corner, its tail between its legs, trembling.

This shocked Rose, who had expected to be the far more scared one in this situation. He was the werewolf after all, not her. Yet he was clearly so terrified of her being there that it melted her anger. Setting her wand on the coffee table and her bag on the floor, Rose took a seat on the couch, her eyes never leaving the werewolf. Rose was confident enough in her use of wandless magic that she thought she could recall her wand to her hand and defend herself if the creature became hostile. The wolf seemed to have had the same thought as it continued to shake slightly.

“Will you knock it off,” Rose said at last, her voice laced with annoyance. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

The trembling calmed slightly but it stayed in the corner, tail tucked between its legs. Rose ran a hand through her hair, sighing. The situation was so like one she could picture with Lupin—his ability to completely turn the tables on her, that it had completely disarmed her and left Rose confused as to why she was here and how she felt about the situation.

“Potter was worried about you, you know. Thought Snape was poisoning you,” Rose chuckled. The sound of her voice and laughter seemed to be calming to the werewolf. “It got me thinking of the potion again, and we were harvesting wolfsbane tonight in the greenhouses—you know, the night of the full moon. Wasn’t so hard to put together.”

The werewolf tilted its head and, if possible, gave her an almost sarcastic look. As if to say, ‘oh, how nice for you to be so clever.’ Rose laughed again, beginning to relax though her heart was still racing. There seemed to be some level of amusement on the werewolf’s part—on Lupin’s part, as well. He had untucked his tail and stepped tentatively forward towards the fire again. Locking eyes with her, he gestured his nose towards the door.

“Oh, you want me to leave?” Rose asked and the werewolf nodded its shaggy head. Rose’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “No, I don’t think so.”

The werewolf looked quite surprised and affronted at this blatant refusal before glaring at her.

“Don’t give me that look. If I leave, I have a suspicion that you’ll be gone in the morning. And I’d like the chance to talk you out of doing anything stupid.” Rose told him; her chin raised imperiously. The wolf continued to glare at her for a while before hesitantly laying back down on the rug. Rose shuffled through her bag, pulling out the small book of poetry Lupin had given her. Leaning back, she propped her legs on the coffee table and began to read. After a while, Rose found that her eyes were refusing to take in the words on the pages in front of her, and she glanced up to find that Lupin was still watching her nervously, his head settled on his large paws.

“Can’t sleep either?” she asked, and amusement flickered across his blue eyes again at her conversational tone. Rose patted the cushion of the couch invitingly and he cocked his head at her skeptically as if to say, ‘ _you can’t be serious’_. “If you come over here, I’ll read you something. Come on Remus, you’re making me anxious with that wounded puppy thing you’re doing.”

Hesitantly the Lupin-wolf padded across the rug to the couch. Rose tried not to show how much she regretted her words as she watched the huge claws glint in the firelight and the powerful muscles of the werewolf ripple beneath its fur coat. She thought that maybe he could hear how her heart sped back up because he paused, glancing at her, and Rose smiled, patting the couch again. Lupin put two paws on the couch and pulled himself slowly onto it as if afraid he’d startle her by moving too quickly. He curled slightly back into himself—his hind legs and tail at the far side and his head facing the fireplace. He laid his head on his front paws that dangled partially off the front of the couch. Lupin was trying hard not to touch her, but they barely fit on the couch together and the fur of his shoulder and neck brushed her thigh.

In a moment of what Rose could only assume was temporary insanity, she reached out a trembling hand and ran it through the fur of his neck. She could feel him tense under her touch, his ears were laid flat back against his head, and he was watching her carefully out of the corner of his eyes. Taking her hand back, Rose flipped mindlessly through the pages of the poetry book before settling on a random one. Clearing her throat, Rose felt silly as she began to read a poem to a werewolf.

“Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,  
Enwrought with golden and silver light,  
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths  
Of night and light and the half-light,

“I would spread the cloths under your feet:  
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;  
I have spread my dreams under your feet;  
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.”

Even though her voice had trembled slightly in the reading, the words seemed to calm Lupin. When she finished, he was staring into the fire, a look of utter melancholy on his face. Rose carefully closed the old book and set it on the table. She let her hand run through his fur again, enjoying the softness of it this time. She could almost hear Lupin’s sad voice asking, ‘I have spread my dreams under your feet, Rose, how will you treat them?’ She could sense the gears turning in his head, could picture the scenarios he was running through. Thinking of how this was his last night in the castle, how, in the morning, she would tell everyone that he was a werewolf. How he would be forced to leave Hogwarts when he had just begun to relax and enjoy himself. His patchy robes and undernourished appearance the first time she’d met him made sense to her now. ‘ _He must live his life in constant fear of the day his secret is discovered, and he is forced to once again pick up and leave_ ,’ she thought, in an unexpected moment of empathy. Something in her stomach curled in deep sadness for the man.

“You know... what I said when we first met: ‘Never forget I’m on your side.’” Rose said, and Lupin tilted his head to look at her better. “I still mean it.”

The words seemed to have a profound effect on him, and he nuzzled his snout into the side of her thigh, his eyes tightly closed. Though no moisture leaked from his eyes, Rose had the distinct impression that he was crying. She let her head fall back to rest on the back of the couch, her fingers holding his fur tightly, trying to keep tears from welling up in her own eyes. A small part of herself arched a brow in annoyance—Malfoys didn’t cry for werewolves, and they certainly didn’t practice blind loyalty to a bad investment. But another larger part of herself was just tired and, letting her eyes close, Rose fell asleep.

She awoke to a pained whine emanating from the werewolf. She jumped up off the couch as its back arched and paws scratched convulsively. Rose watched in subdued horror as the werewolf began to change back into the form of a man. Bones cracked and reset, skin stretched and shrank, joints reversed, and fingers grew. As the wolfish whines of pain changed into recognizably human shouts of agony, the hair on the deformed creature’s skin seemed to pull back into the flesh and the snout and ears shrank back into a recognizable face. Lupin lay on the couch panting in exhaustion, his body covered in sweat and tears running down his face. Rose’s cheeks turned slightly pink at his very naked body, and she quickly pulled her robe off and threw it over him, trying not to look too long at his bare chest or let her eyes travel any lower.

“Rose,” Lupin managed to say in a hoarse whisper, sitting up slightly before vomiting on the floor. Rose, who was not a healer and did not want to be a healer watched this happen with a look of mild disgust. Picking up her wand, she vanished the bile. Remus, who had managed to sit up by now, let his head fall back against the couch, eyes closed against the vertigo of his brain processing the change of vision from a werewolf's to a human's. He clutched Rose’s robe tightly around his body and was shivering as if in the midst of a fever.

“You look awful,” Rose said, and though she had meant it to be a teasing remark, it came out sounding far too sincere. Lupin did in fact look terrible; the worst she had ever seen him. Huge shadows were present under his eyes, his skin was the color of old parchment, and his scars stood out vividly all over his body. Managing to crack an eye open, Lupin looked at her, a weak smile crossing his face.

“Now you know why I wanted you to leave. Didn’t want you to see me without my usual dashing good looks,” his tone was joking even though his voice still sounded like it hadn’t been used in years. Rose managed to return his smile feebly. As Lupin tried to stand and failed, Rose put her arm beneath his and helped him get to his feet. He leaned heavily on her as they walked into his bedroom. Rose left him at the door to the bathroom and returned to the living area to give him some privacy.

“You can come in now,” he said after a few minutes. When she walked in, Rose saw he was sitting up in bed, propped against some pillows, a loose-fitting night shirt covered his torso and the rest of him was tucked under his duvet. It looked like he had washed his face and brushed his hair back from his eyes, but he looked no less exhausted. Lupin gestured tiredly at her robe which lay folded at the end of his bed. Rose picked it up and held it against her chest, looking at the floor, the wall, the stitching on the duvet cover, anywhere but at the exhausted sickly-looking Lupin. She was waiting for him to shout at her, to tell her off for coming into his private rooms. It had been much easier to mouth off to a trembling werewolf last night than it was to mouth off to a Remus Lupin who looked like he might expire on her at any moment.

“It was something James would have done. He could never leave a mystery alone either.” Lupin said, and Rose met his gaze at last. She found she couldn’t be mad at him for bringing James up when he looked as pathetic as he did.

“I’m sorry I intruded on your privacy, Professor.”

“No, you’re not,” Lupin chuckled softly, and Rose blushed.

“No,” she agreed at last. “I’m not.”

In a strange reversal of the previous night, Lupin patted his bed in invitation. Rose sat hesitantly, one leg tucked under her, one dangling half off the edge as if ready to flee at any moment. The two observed each other for a while in silence.

“How are you still here, how are you not disgusted or terrified of me?”

“I was disgusted and terrified.” Rose shrugged honestly. “But you looked so scared yourself….”

They lapsed back into silence, and Rose fidgeted with the hem of her skirt.

“Do you want me to send for breakfast?” She asked.

“I doubt I could keep anything down right now,” Lupin shrugged apologetically. “I usually sleep most of the day following a transformation.”

“I can leave you to do that then,” Rose said immediately, moving to stand, but Remus caught her hand in his own, his thumb tracing over her knuckles affectionately. She looked at him in surprise. His tired eyes were filled with a melancholy gratitude.

“Thank you,” he told her, and Rose laughed at the unexpected words.

“For what?”

“For being on my side.” Rose’s heart did a somersault in her chest, and she squeezed his hand affectionately.

“Goodnight, Remus,” she whispered, dropping his hand, but the man had already fallen asleep. Leaning over, she brushed the hair out of his eyes before quickly turning to leave. Picking up her bag, Rose quietly let herself out of his office.

‘ _Well played_ ,’ said the calculating voice in her head, ‘ _he would do anything for you now_.’ Rose brushed the thought aside. She didn’t want a devoted servant. She especially didn’t want that from Remus Lupin. ‘ _Then what do you want from him_ ,’ the voice in her head asked, and Rose didn’t know how to answer that question. All she could think about was the way his hand had felt in hers and how very sad and tired his eyes looked.

When she arrived back in the Slytherin common room there were only a handful of students milling about. Most had braved the stormy weather to attend the Quidditch match. Wandering up to her dormitory, Rose suddenly realized how tired she was. When she walked in, Mariko was sitting in front of the vanity they shared, brushing out her long black hair. Their eyes met in the reflection of the mirror, and Mari raised one delicate eyebrow curiously.

“Where were you last night?” She asked, her voice deceptively uncaring.

“Hospital wing, something at dinner upset my stomach.” Rose replied nonchalantly and flopped down on her bed. Pulling the comforter up to her nose, she closed her eyes and tried to quiet the cacophony of thoughts swirling in her mind. She just wanted to sleep.


	12. Chapter 12

_“Mass is not proportional to volume  
A girl as small as a violet a girl who moves like a flower petal  
is pulling me towards her with more force than her mass_

_Just then, Like Newton’s apple  
I rolled towards her without stopping until I fell on her  
with a thump. With a thump._

_My heart keeps bouncing between the sky and the ground  
It was my first love._

\- Kim In Yook [The Physics of Love]

_Monday_

Lupin sat behind his desk, rubbing his face tiredly, though he was mostly recovered from the full moon, his body still ached, and he hadn’t slept well all weekend. His eyes lifted to see the reason for his lack of sleep sitting in the back row between her two friends as the class continued practicing wandless magic. All three of them had conjured blue flames at this point and, Rose, who was showing off for the other two, was causing her ball of flames to twirl into a small whirling tornado on her desk. Normally Lupin might remark on this kind of behavior but every time he thought of speaking to her today his mouth went dry and his throat closed up. A cold bead of terror seemed to drip down his spine each time the thought came to him— _she knew_.

In the middle of a laugh, Rose glanced up and their eyes met. The smile became suddenly unsure on her face and both of them looked away at the same time. Remus clenched and unclenched his hands nervously. By the time he looked back at her she was staring fixedly at her left hand trying to conjure flames in her nonwand-hand. Lupin rubbed his face again, turning his attention to the other students to see how they were doing. ‘ _I was disgusted and terrified,_ ’ her voice echoed around in his mind torturously. Had he really expected her not to be? Of course she’d be afraid of him—he was a monster.

‘ _But she stayed_ ,’ he thought to himself. She’d stayed even when she saw what he was. She had touched him, read to him, comforted him. He could still remember how beautiful she had looked in the firelight, her red hair glowing, her lips forming the words of the poem she’d read to him. Lupin shook his head to clear it of those thoughts. Clearly she had pitied him and now that the first moments of sympathy had dried up she was afraid and wanted nothing to do with him. It was for the best. Their relationship had begun to border on the inappropriate and this would put some much-needed distance between them.

As soon as the class ended, Lupin grabbed his briefcase off the desk and turned to go up to his office. He was so focused on getting away that he never noticed that Rose was the last one to leave the classroom or that her eyes lingered on his back as he walked away from her.

_Tuesday_

Lupin sat in his office grading papers, trying to ignore the empty seat across from him. The lack of her presence felt like a gaping void. He didn’t realize how empty the room could feel without her in it or how tedious grading papers could suddenly become without her voice to make the odd joke or casual conversation. What had he expected though? When she had told him ‘ _never forget I’m on your side,’_ how could he have believed that level of sincerity from someone who had lived over a decade of her life as the child of Death Eaters?

She had tried to tell him weeks ago that she was a Malfoy at heart; that she wanted nothing to do with her lineage as a Potter. But despite telling her that he wanted to know her for who she was now, it had been so difficult to separate Rose from his memories of Lily and James. She looked so much like her mother, and at times she acted so much like James that it was easy to ignore the times her nature as a Malfoy peaked through. So he had continued to labor under the impression that she was the same girl he had once known long ago. He wondered how long it would be before she told her friends about him. How long did he have left at Hogwarts?

‘ _She won’t do that to me_ ,’ he told himself. Even now part of him trusted her. And he trusted her not because she was Lily and James’ daughter but because she was the young woman he had come to know over the past few weeks. The one who would sit in that chair across from his desk and smile at him over the top of an essay. The woman who would grin cheekily at him during class when she had accomplished something new. The woman whose eyes would narrow calculatingly when she faced a problem that needed solving. The woman who felt like she was sculpted to fit perfectly in his arms. _Rose_. That was the woman he trusted.

_Wednesday_

Stomach growling, Lupin headed down to the Great Hall for dinner. He had just learned about the werewolf essay Severus had assigned for his third-year students and was feeling particularly tired and annoyed. He hadn’t expected Severus Snape to be kind or friendly to him this year, but the essay on how to recognize and kill werewolves felt over the top. It was likely a retaliation against the boggart lesson from earlier in the year, and Remus might have even found it amusing if he hadn’t already been in a poor mood from the business with Rose.

As if in response to his thoughts, both Rose and Severus materialized in a classroom doorway, preceded by a Slytherin student he didn’t recognize and by the Ravenclaw seventh-year Parker Smythe. It took a moment for Lupin to connect the dots and realize that this must be the Alchemy class Rose had told him about earlier in the year. Rose, who appeared to be in the middle of asking Snape a question, trailed off as he walked by and glanced down at her feet. As he passed, Snape caught Lupin’s eye and the expression on his face was one almost of victory. Remus’s hands balled into fists and he walked on, suddenly with much less of an appetite.

_Thursday_

Remus followed Madam Pince through the library, trying not to feel like a young schoolboy who was in trouble. He was a Professor now, and much too old to still be scared of the stern librarian. No matter how many times he told himself this, however, the icy glare she shot at him over her shoulder from time to time still made him want to flee to avoid a detention.

“It’s down there,” she said sharply as they came to a halt in a dark corner in the restricted section. “They love to hide behind old books and jump out when people dust them.”

“Thank you for saving it for me,” Remus said sincerely. Madam Pince only sniffed at him in annoyance and swept back down the aisle. Lupin bent down and laid his briefcase on the floor, unlatching it and opening the lid. Pulling out the book she had indicated, Remus was unsurprised as the full moon materialized in front of him. Pointing his wand at the boggart Remus said, “Riddikulus.”

The moon turned into a balloon that was quickly losing air, and he directed it into the briefcase, the lid snapping shut on top of it.

‘ _Perfect_ ,’ he thought.

He knew the boggart would come in handy sometime. Maybe for an end of term test for his third-years or a surprise review for the fourths. Turning to go, he almost smacked straight into Rose as he rounded a corner. Fortunately, both were able to stop in time.

“Rose,” he said in surprise before he could stop himself. Their eyes met briefly before both looked away.

“Excuse me, Professor.” She mumbled, and Remus stepped aside to let her past. Catching a brief look at the book she was holding titled _The Plight of the Lycanthrope._ Remus felt both cold and hot, a fine sweat breaking out on his brow as he hurried out of the library.

_Friday_

Another day, another empty chair. Remus fought very hard not to keep staring into his empty office and to keep his mind focused on his essays. She hadn’t come today either, and he couldn’t deny that he was missing her terribly. He had lived the past fourteen years of his life without close friends or family. Lupin had thought he’d become used to solitude. He didn’t understand how in a matter of weeks, Rose had managed to intrude so much into his life and routine that going back to days of loneliness now felt unbearable. Perhaps the sense of loneliness and displacement were amplified because of the essay he was currently grading. He’d allowed Hermione to turn her werewolf essay into him for extra credit, but he hadn’t counted on how painful reading it would be for him—and he’d only gotten through the first paragraph. There was a whole roll of parchment left.

A soft tapping came from the open door to his office, and Lupin glanced up wearily, tensing when he saw the woman with red curly hair who stood there. Rose’s hand dropped from the doorframe where she had rapped her knuckles moments before. Their eyes met and she smiled sheepishly at him.

“Do you need any help with grading, Professor?”

“If you’d like.” He managed to get out through a dry throat. Moving into his office, Rose unslung the bag from her shoulder and sat in the chair across from him. Rifling through the contents of her bag, Rose pulled out a small package and slid it across the desk to him.

“From Honeydukes,” Rose explained as Remus set down Hermione’s essay and picked up the bar of chocolate. Her eyes flickered to the essay, taking in the heading in a moment. Her gaze grew steely and cold. Reaching over, she snagged the essay off the desk and pulled it to herself. “I can finish this one.”

Remus had never felt as much affection for Rose as he did in that moment. Unwrapping the bar of chocolate, he took a bite and leaned back in his chair. For a long while he just took her in, sitting across from him in her usual spot, long curls falling over her shoulders, a look of concentration on her heart-shaped face. Her gaze flickered from the parchment to his eyes, and she smiled at him before going back to reading. Lupin’s heart lurched at the light blush that began to color her cheeks. He could feel the goofy grin on his own face but didn’t care. She was here; she had come back. Taking another bite of chocolate, Remus felt the tension drain away from his body in one contented sigh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, but wanted to get something in from Lupin's perspective. Don't forget to comment or kudos if you're enjoying so far and bookmark so you don't miss updates! If you have any love poems you think would work well for future chapters I'd love to hear them.


	13. Chapter 13

_“How does Love speak?  
In the faint flush upon the telltale cheek,  
And in the pallor that succeeds it; by  
The quivering lid of an averted eye--  
The smile that proves the parent to a sigh  
Thus doth Love speak.”_

\- Ella Wheeler Wilcox [Love’s Language]

The cold clear sky on the mid November day gave the Hufflepuff and Slytherin teams the perfect conditions for their match. As Rose strolled out on the pitch, her Nimbus 2001 in one hand, she lifted her other high and waved to the cheering crowd, throwing a cocky smile towards the stands. Draco, who was walking beside her was mirroring her actions, an excited grin on his own face. She could feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins as they approached the middle of the pitch. Rose could see the Hufflepuff team entering from the other side. Locking eyes with Sam from across the pitch, the two exchanged competitive grins. As usual they’d spent the past couple of weeks engaging in their traditional trash talking of each other. Sam swung her beater’s bat deftly in her hand waggling her eyebrows at Rose who turned up her nose at her.

“Mount your brooms.” Madam Hooch called to them, and Rose swung one of her legs over the broomstick. Her eyes fixed on the quaffle in Hooch’s hand as she kicked the trunk open and the two bludgers and the snitch soared out. At the earsplitting sound of her whistle, Rose kicked off hard, heading straight for the quaffle. Reaching her hand towards it, Rose had almost grasped the ball when one of the Hufflepuff chasers bodychecked her, snagging it instead.

Shooting off after him, Rose quickly caught up on her superior broomstick. Flint was paralleling them a few meters below, and she knocked the quaffle from the Hufflepuff’s hand, letting it drop down to Flint. After a rapid series of passes up to the goal posts, Rose dodged the keeper and threw the quaffle through the rightmost hoop. Spinning around, she pumped her fist into the air as the Slytherins cheered and the other three houses hissed in disappointment.

The rest of the game progressed in a similar fashion. Despite the stronger team Diggory had put together that year, their chasers just couldn’t compete with the faster, more ruthless Slytherin trio. When Draco caught the snitch nearly a half an hour in, they were already up by forty points. Rose landed hard on the ground, clutching her stomach from where a bludger had struck her—sent hard in her direction by Sam in the last few moments of the game, but otherwise feeling great about the match. When Draco landed next to her, grinning from ear to ear, Rose slung her arm around his shoulders.

“Nice flying, pipsqueak,” she grinned, leaning over and kissing his cheek with exaggerated enthusiasm.

“Get off, Rose,” Draco yelled in embarrassment, pushing her away and wiping his cheek clean of her kiss; his eyes darted nervously to where his friends were crossing the field towards them. Rose laughed at him affectionately, enjoying the blush that rose to his normally pallid cheeks.

“Alright, alright.” Rose released him to be with his friends and made her way to the changing room, slipping into an oversized sweater and jeans. At Malfoy manor she wouldn’t dare to wear muggle clothing, but at Hogwarts, even among the Slytherins, it was common to wear them on weekends. Glancing in the mirror before leaving, Rose ran her hands through her hair, detangling the windswept locks. She was careful to leave them looking tousled and wild—Rose always loved the way her hair looked after getting off a broom. As she left, Rose walked out to the unwelcome sight of Marcus Flint leaning casually against the outer wall. He grinned at her, and she smiled unenthusiastically back.

“Good job out there, Malfoy.”

“Thanks, you too Flint.” Rose made to move past him, but his hand shot out and grabbed her arm, pulling her closer.

“Want to _celebrate_ together?” He asked suggestively.

“I’ll pass, but I’m sure there’s plenty of other girls tripping over themselves for the honor.” Rose shook him off and moved quickly away. Marcus Flint gave her the creeps. She knew just how horny a Quidditch victory could make you, but he needed to get it through his head that she was not going to solve that problem for him. Rounding the corner, Rose’s eyebrow twitched in irritation at seeing none other than her brother pressed up against the black-haired Slytherin girl, their faces locked at the lips. What was her name, Patsy?

“Ew, Draco! _Merlin_. Get a room will you—actually don’t do that either.” Rose partially covered her eyes, peaking out at them from between her fingers. She did not want to see her little brother kissing anyone. When they broke apart to look at her, both of their faces were flushed red, Draco’s in fury, and the girl’s in slight embarrassment. As Draco opened his mouth to reply scathingly, the three were interrupted when Professor Lupin rounded one of the stands.

“Oh, hello there,” he grinned awkwardly at the three of them.

“What are you doing here?” Draco sneered at him, looking his patched robes over with a critical eye.

“Mind yourself, Draco,” Rose hissed at him in a manner scarily similar to Lucius Malfoy. The two locked eyes and after a brief battle of wills Draco looked away.

“Sorry, Professor.” Draco drawled insincerely, but Lupin waved the apology away good naturedly. Grabbing the girl’s hand, Draco began pulling her quickly away from the pair, heading back towards the castle.

“I better not find you two snogging again!” Rose shouted after them, and Remus chuckled next to her. She grinned at him sheepishly.

“I suppose I should congratulate you on your victory.” Lupin told her, and Rose shrugged nonchalantly but was unable to keep the smile off her face.

“If you’d like, but I imagine you were rooting for Hufflepuff like the rest of the school.”

“I must admit that as a former Gryffindor, I find it hard to cheer for Slytherin, but I was cheering for you Rose.” Her stomach lurched pleasantly at this statement, and she could feel the blush spreading across her face. By the cheeky grin Lupin gave her, she could tell he noticed her reaction.

“Care for a walk?” He asked, pointing towards a trail that would take them along the forest’s edge and loop around the Black Lake. “I wouldn’t want to keep you from your celebrations of course.”

“A walk sounds great,” Rose replied enthusiastically. The two walked in silence for a while, enjoying the crisp air and sunny day. Much as they had after the incident on the tower, they had been ignoring the events of the full moon. The first few days after the discovery had been awkward, Rose was sure Lupin had been avoiding her, and if she was honest, she had been avoiding him too. But she had quickly come to miss their quiet hours together of sipping tea, grading papers, and making small talk. When she'd wandered back into his office later in the week and sat down across from him, neither had commented on her previous absences. The relieved smile on his face at the end of their time had left her in no doubt that he had missed her as much as she had missed him.

“Are you… feeling better?” She asked eventually, and Lupin gave her an appraising look out of the corner of his eye.

“Are we doing this now?” He asked, and Rose’s face flushed, she had resolutely avoided making any mention of his being a werewolf up till now.

“We don’t have to, it’s not really my business.” Rose turned and surveyed the shore of the lake as they walked, watching as one of the giant squid’s tentacles broke the water and sent ripples out across the glassy surface.

“I was bitten when I was very young. Fenrir Greyback, if you know who he is…” Rose nodded at this, familiar with Greyback’s bloodthirsty story. “There was no wolfsbane potion in those days. I turned into a fully grown beast back then, nothing like the wolf you met after Halloween.”

Rose listened quietly as Lupin spoke. Once he got going, the story seemed to pour out of him. She got the impression that he hadn’t told anyone these things in years. How Dumbledore had invited him to Hogwarts, his monthly transformations in the Shrieking Shack, how his close friends, including James Potter, had found out but hadn’t deserted him, how Sirius had tricked Snape into following Remus into the Shrieking Shack and how James had saved his life, why that was why Snape hated him so much. He talked about life after Hogwarts, struggling to find and hold down paid work, how he had been wallowing in poverty in his family home before Dumbledore had offered him a job at Hogwarts. He told her how terrified he’d been when the door had opened that night and he saw her standing there with her wand drawn. He’d been so sure she would run to tell her classmates or that she would curse him or that she’d never speak to him again. His voice choked up for a moment then, and he fell silent.

Turning to look at him, Rose saw there were tears on his face. Reaching up, she wiped them off his cheeks affectionately, enjoying the touch of his warm skin against her cold fingers. His blue eyes were full of melancholy and fear again, and he looked so vulnerable Rose couldn’t stand it. Looking away from him, Rose wrapped her arm around his, leaning her head against his shoulder. She stared out at the Black Lake, so she didn’t have to stare into his eyes.

“I just asked how you were feeling, Remus, I didn’t ask for your life’s story,” she said at last in a teasing tone, and Lupin let out a bark of laughter. She tilted her chin up at him, glad to see amusement in his eyes rather than sadness. He lifted a hand to brush a strand of hair out of her face, his fingers lingering on her cheek.

“When did I tell you it was alright to call me Remus,” he asked, his voice low and husky. Rose’s heart was hammering in her chest at the molten look in his eyes, warmth pooling in her stomach and between her thighs.

“You didn’t…. Do you want me to stop?” Rose breathed out. He was so close, so achingly close. She could feel the heat of his body even through their clothing, could feel the strength of his arm, could smell the pleasant earthy scents of him, could feel the roughness of his palm as it cupped her cheek.

“No… no, I like the way it sounds coming from your mouth.” And there was something about the way he said mouth that made her body feel like it was on fire. His face was so close now, she could feel his breath on her lips. Rose closed her eyes. If she leaned forward just a few inches their lips would—

Another tentacle broke the surface of the lake with a loud splash and the two jumped at the noise. By the time Rose looked back to Lupin, he had taken two steps back from her and was running his hand through his hair nervously. He gave her a sheepish grin and gestured back towards the path. Swallowing her disappointment, Rose followed him, continuing their walk. She couldn’t help noticing that he walked closer to her now, their shoulders and the back of their hands brushing occasionally. He frequently offered her a hand to help her step over fallen logs or hop muddy sections of the trail. At one particularly large puddle she had slid in the mud after jumping and he’d wrapped an arm around her waist to catch her, his fingers digging into the hallow of her hip. Rose nearly moaned at the feeling of his hands on her body. Remus had released her quickly, but she could still feel the way his hands felt as if they had burned their shape into her. Emerging from the woods, they walked back towards the castle, now standing a more reasonable distance from one another.

“Congratulations again, Rose,” Lupin told her as they walked in through the entrance.

“Thanks Professor, have a good weekend.” Their eyes lingered on one another for a moment before he turned to head up to his office and she began descending the steps to the dungeons. Rose felt like she was lighter than air as she made her way to the Slytherin common room, replaying every touch however innocent they’d had during the walk. When the wall swung open to admit her, Rose saw that the party was in full swing. Draco and Patsy were squished together on the couch drinking butterbeers and groups of students accumulated wherever a Slytherin Quidditch player happened to be standing. As Marcus Flint was suspiciously absent, Rose assumed he’d found someone to help with his own celebrations.

“There you are,” came Mariko’s voice as she shoved a butterbeer into her hand. Rose popped the top quickly and gulped down some of the pleasant butterscotch drink.

“Thanks,” she said, grinning as Mari covertly tipped some clear liquid from a flask into the bottle. Rose swirled the bottle gently before taking another sip, the drink now burning pleasantly on the way down.

“Where were you? I waited at the entrance after the match, Ava and I couldn’t find you in the crowd.”

“I decided to take a walk.”

“A walk?”

“Yeah, around the lake, it was a nice day.” Rose shrugged and took another swig of the spiked butterbeer, not meeting Mari’s eyes under the pretext of watching the party. Mariko’s sharp gaze took in Rose’s tussled hair, flushed cheeks, and the brightness of her eyes.

“Uh-huh,” she replied skeptically, but decided to drop it for now and enjoy the party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know her name's Pansy, just thought it would be funny for Rose to not remember it. Also, leave comments and kudos, I'm needy!


	14. Chapter 14

_“I love how she makes me feel like anything is possible, or like life is worth it.”_

\- Tom Hansen [in 500 Days of Summer]

“Can you believe we made it!”

“Halfway done!”

“Cheers!” The four girls clinked their butterbeers together excitedly, taking large gulps of their drinks. Rose grinned at her three friends as she set her glass down on the table. The atmosphere of the Three Broomsticks was a general air of celebration as all of the students enjoyed the last Hogsmeade trip before their winter vacation began.

“I am so ready to go home and do absolutely nothing,” Mari proclaimed getting a round of laughs from the other three. “Except for attending your engagement party of course.”

Rose smiled nervously at this statement, taking another sip of butterbeer. Looking across the table at an unusually quiet Ava, Rose knew she wasn’t the only person feeling nervous for the holidays.

“How are you holding up?” Rose asked her and Ava started slightly, drawn back out of her thoughts. Sam wrapped an arm around her comfortingly, and Ava smiled weakly at her girlfriend before responding.

“I’m alright, I guess. Just not ready to go home and be called Avner for a week.” The three nodded at Ava sympathetically. Ever since coming out to her parents and beginning her transition, holiday breaks had become a painful rather than pleasant experience.

“I wish you’d come stay with me and my family,” Sam said, her tone slightly pleading, but Ava shook her head.

“I couldn’t do that to Daniel,” Ava responded immediately. “Winter holidays are the only time I get to see him during the school year.”

“He’d understand, he’s your brother, and he loves you.” Sam reassured her. Rose and Mari remained silent as they had never met Ava’s twin brother. Unlike Ava, he hadn’t inherited their father’s magical abilities and was attending a muggle boarding school.

“Has your dad come around at all?” Mari asked gently.

“He barely spoke to me over the summer,” Ava replied with a shake of her head. “If anything, it feels like he’s getting angrier and angrier each time he sees me….”

“At least you get ten days of gifts to distract you instead of just one,” Mariko said, trying to liven the mood.

“It’s eight days, Mari.” Ava corrected in amusement before her face fell again. “Eight days of mom giving me gifts I won’t use. Last year I got a new set of clippers, cologne, cufflinks, you get the idea. It’s funny because we didn’t really give elaborate gifts before. I think she’s convinced if I have all the right accessories, I’ll somehow turn back into her son…. Can we talk about something else?”

Cold wind blew through the small tavern as a group of people entered. Glancing reproachfully at whomever opened the door, Rose saw Professor McGonagall, Flitwick, Hagrid, and, unexpectedly, the Minister of Magic trickle in and take a seat near one of the Christmas trees. Rose waved briefly at McGonagall who returned the gesture amusedly before ordering her drink from Madam Rosmerta.

“Are you excited for your engagement party, Rose?” Ava asked, bringing Rose’s attention back to the group

“I’m… looking forward to it.” Rose said after a long moment. Mari rolled her eyes at her. “I haven’t met Stefan’s parents yet, so that will be exciting. I just know mom is going to go overboard on the party. I wish the two of you could come.”

“It’s alright,” Sam said with a shrug. “We know we’re not your parent’s favorite people. They’re not my favorite people either if I’m honest. Don’t get me wrong, I hope you have a great time, it just isn’t my cup of tea.”

“It’s going to be wonderful,” Mari gushed. “Narcissa always throws the best parties!”

“At least Mari will be happy if you aren’t,” Sam joked.

“That is the most important thing,” Rose agreed with a grin. Mariko just shrugged and finished her drink. The Arai’s were long time guests at the Malfoy Manor and Narcissa was known to fawn over Mari almost as much as she fawned over Rose.

“Isn’t it all happening kind of fast?” Ava asked tentatively. She knew Rose could be fiercely defensive of her family and didn’t want to push any buttons.

“Not really,” Mari answered before Rose could respond. “The two of you just don’t understand how things work for purebloods.”

Ava and Sam both shot Mari a glare. Mari, sensing the tension smiled sheepishly and added, “…No offense.”

“Come on Ava, let’s leave these _purebloods_ to their drinks.” Sam said haughtily, grabbing her girlfriend’s hand and tugged her from the booth.

“Nice going,” Rose commented dryly, and Mari looked mildly regretful. “You should go apologize; you won’t get another chance until after break.”

Mariko slid out of the booth with a clear air of ‘I really don’t want to do this.’ Throwing back the last of her butterbeer, Rose got up and headed to the door. She looked up in surprise as it was held open for her by none other than Cornelius Fudge who grinned down at her from beneath his lime green bowler hat. Stepping through hastily, she smiled brightly at the man.

“Thank you so much minister.”

“Not at all, my dear,” he replied jovially. “I just received an invitation from Lucius this morning, I believe congratulations are in order, young Dolohov will make a fine husband. I work with him on the Wizengamot you know.”

“You’re too kind,” Rose said, her eyes flicking to McGonagall who was standing beside Fudge and whose lips were now pursed so tightly as to be nearly invisible.

“I look forward to the party, for now I have to go up to the castle and meet with Dumbledore, you know how these things go.”

“Of course minister.” Rose agreed immediately, even though she did not in fact ‘know how these things go.’ But she was ready to escape from McGonagall’s watchful gaze at the first opportunity. Rose had already half turned away when McGonagall’s sharp voice split the air.

“I wonder if you might join us, Miss Malfoy. I need to have a word with you before the train arrives.”

“Happy to, Professor.” Rose said in a tone that didn’t sound particularly happy. She fell into step with McGonagall and Flitwick. Hagrid was leading the way with his large stumbling gait, singing Christmas carols very loudly.

“Young Stefan Dolohov?” ventured Flitwick in his squeaky voice. “I remember him from his time at Hogwarts, he was in my house you know.”

“In Ravenclaw?” Rose asked in surprise, she had of course assumed Stefan had been in her own house.

“Oh yes, the only one of his family not to be in Slytherin. A bright young man, quite adept at charms, rather serious.”

“A passable transfiguration student,” McGonagall said with a sniff, and Rose grinned at her reluctant compliment. McGonagall’s stern gaze softened slightly, and her tightly pursed lips drew back in the barest of smiles. “I seem to recall his real passion was Ancient Runes.”

“Yes, yes,” agreed Fudge as they walked along. “And that has been indispensable to us at the Ministry. _Indispensable_. It can be a tricky job to translate some of our more archaic laws, and I’ve been told by Madam Bones personally that he is most adept. The two of you will make a superb pair.”

“Thank you, minister.” Rose said quietly. It was odd to hear about her fiancé from the perspective of those who knew him. She found that she quite enjoyed hearing the compliments. After all, what Stefan Dolohov earned and how people thought of him reflected on her. She realized that she’d have big shoes to fill as his wife. It made her walk with her chin raised a little higher. When they entered the castle, the group parted ways, and Rose trailed after McGonagall on their way up to her office. Rose examined the back of her stern shoulders nervously. McGonagall couldn’t give her a detention for getting engaged… could she?

“Sit.” She told her when they arrived in her office. Rose immediately sank into the offered chair, and McGonagall steepled her fingers, gazing at Rose intently.

“As Gryffindor’s head of house, it is not my place to advise you,” she began, and Rose’s lips twitched slightly at the introduction. This was how McGonagall always began these conversations with her. “But as an adept transfigurist and a promising young alchemist, I feel it is my duty to once again remind you that you are more than just a pretty face.”

“Yes, Professor.” Rose said. McGonagall’s words stung as if the woman had slapped her.

“Have you given further thought to teaching? Professor Lupin has told me what a great help you’ve been to him this year. I believe he’s planning on letting you teach some of the first-year classes next term.”

“I’ve… enjoyed working with him. I’m not sure if teaching is right for me though.” Rose said, her face coloring slightly at the knowledge that Remus had complimented her to McGonagall.

“What is it you are interested in then?”

“I… I don’t know, Professor. I love learning about transfiguration, I love pushing my limits and the limits of the magic, I just don’t—”

“Research then.” McGonagall interrupted with a wave of her hand.

“Research?”

“Of course, silly girl. Did you think a N.E.W.T.s course was the end of transfiguration knowledge? There are plenty of adept witches and wizards who are working to expand what is possible in various areas of transfiguration and many of them take on apprentices. A reference to any one of them from me will get you very far in the application process.”

“Oh….” Rose replied lamely and McGonagall’s lips tugged back in a slight grin.

“If you think it’s something you’re interested in, you will need top scores in your N.E.W.T.s exam—something you are more than capable of. We should also look to get you published in _Transfiguration Today_ , it will help you be taken more seriously. Is there a topic of particular interest you can think of writing on?”

“Well… I’ve recently become interested in lycanthropy.” Rose began hesitantly, and McGonagall’s eyebrows shot up towards her hairline.

“Lycanthropy,” she repeated in a suspicious tone of voice.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Most research into lycanthropy is done in the field of potions making, Miss Malfoy.”

“Exactly,” replied Rose enthusiastically. “But the transformation of a person into a wolf is inherently a subset of transfiguration. I think it needs to be studied more thoroughly from the transfiguration side of things—after all, the homorphus charm—”

“The homorphus charm is a myth,” McGonagall said. “And even if it does exist it is unlikely to be a cure for lycanthropy, just a temporary transformation.”

“It’s a place to start though.” Rose said stubbornly, and McGonagall gave her a genuine smile this time.

“I will review the draft of your paper, and we’ll see if we can get it published. Lastly,” McGonagall pulled out a small tin box and slid it across the desk to her. “You should seriously consider attempting the animagus transformation in the spring. It will be much easier to do here under my supervision and guidance than to wait. You should know it is a demanding task and much of it depends on luck and proper timing. There is no guarantee you will accomplish the transformation even if you try.”

Rose picked up the tin hesitantly, opening the lid to see a handful of dried mandrake leaves sitting inside. Her brow furrowed in confusion and she glanced up to see a still smiling McGonagall.

“What are these for?”

“One of the ingredients in the potion you must drink prior to the animagus transformation is a mandrake leaf completely permeated by your own saliva.”

“My saliva?” Rose repeated in mild disgust. “I have to put one of these leaves in my mouth?”

“That is correct, Miss Malfoy,” McGonagall said, an amused tone to her voice. Rose narrowed her eyes at McGonagall suspiciously.

“How long do I have to keep it in my mouth?”

“One month.”

“A month!” Rose exclaimed as McGonagall chuckled quietly to herself.

“From full moon to full moon. If it leaves your mouth at any time during the month you will have to start over. That’s why I am giving them to you now. If you mess up, you will have a few tries next term to get it right. The next full moon is on Christmas day.”

Rose stared at McGonagall for a moment, trying to decide if the stern woman had intentionally made a pun, but her impassive face gave nothing away. Holding up one of the leaves, Rose looked at it skeptically. ‘ _You have got to be kidding me_.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know being an animagus can come off as very Mary Sue-ish so I hope that it isn't going to be like that for this story. A big part of Rose's character is based on James Potter, and I'm really trying to have her put the hard work in to earn it, not just suddenly become one with no issues. McGonagall has always been one of my favorite characters too, so I hope you like chapters with her. Don't forget to kudos, comment, and bookmark!


	15. Chapter 15

_I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,  
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.  
I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster._

_—Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture  
I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident  
the art of losing’s not too hard to master  
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster_.

\- Elizabeth Bishop [One Art]

“You look beautiful!” Narcissa practically squealed while Rose spun this way and that for her mother. Mariko and Mrs. Aria were in similar states of gushing excitement at the way she looked in the freshly altered dress. Rose observed herself in the full-length mirror and had to admit that the dress was beautiful. The full-length gown was flattering on her tall frame and hugged her curves in all the right places. The material itself was a soft midnight-blue velvet dotted all over with shimmering rhinestones. The front was modest with a high collar that encircled her delicate neck while the back plunged low to her hips, showing off her toned muscles and lightly tanned skin, and there was just enough of a train to add elegance without being cumbersome.

“Dolohov won’t know what hit him,” Mariko assured her, and Rose smiled gratefully at her friend. The seamstress bustled back into the private viewing room, making a couple of tiny adjustments to the length of the hemline and the bunching of the fabric at her hips.

“You have a gorgeous daughter, Mrs. Malfoy,” the seamstress grinned at the group, and Narcissa smiled imperiously. The woman had been sucking up to her mother for the last hour; Rose expected she’d be receiving a generous tip.

“You have such good taste Narcissa,” Mrs. Arai said, looking over the dress appreciatively. “You had this custom made?”

“Of course, Ryu, my daughter wouldn’t be caught dead in anything else, especially for her engagement party. Just wait until you see the designs for the wedding dress!” Rose, who was still examining herself in the mirror saw her own face grow visibly paler at the mention of a wedding dress. She locked eyes with Mariko.

“Mom, Narcissa, do you mind if Rose and I walk around while you finish up here? We can get our last-minute Christmas shopping in.” Mariko asked sweetly.

Minutes later, Mari and Rose were squeezing through the crowded streets of Diagon Alley, pressing their faces up to the windows of various boutiques and swapping stories about how the first few days of winter vacation had gone. As they passed a gourmet candy store, Mari pulled her inside, claiming that Parker loved sugar snaps. Perusing their chocolate section, Rose grinned. She had found the perfect gift for Lupin. Taking the box of chocolates to the front, Rose smiled to herself, thinking about the goodbye they’d shared before she’d left for the holidays.

Rose had stopped by his office to say goodbye before taking the carriages down to the train. Knocking on the door to his private chambers, she’d been greeted by a rather amused looking Lupin. Holding the door open for her, he invited her into the room that was now covered top to bottom in Christmas decorations. Rose looked around, admiring the garlands and baubles layered onto nearly every surface.

“Are we asking permission to enter my private rooms now?” Remus joked, letting the door fall shut. Rose grinned at him unapologetically and shrugged her shoulders.

“The house elves did a great job in here,” she commented, gesturing to the room, and Remus looked at it with a slightly critical eye.

“I assumed this was your doing.” He said, eyeing her suspiciously.

“I may have given them some extra encouragement.” She smiled and Remus’ eyes glanced up towards the ceiling in mock exasperation. “Now you’ll have something to remember me by while I’m gone.”

“Well, it does seem to have its uses,” he replied, his eyes still fixed above her head. Rose looked up and blushed fiercely as she saw the large sprig of mistletoe the elves had attached there. When she looked down, Lupin had already closed the gap between them. Bending down, he brought his face close to hers. Rose’s breath caught in her throat and her heart was hammering in her chest at how near he was. Tilting his head, Remus kissed her cheek, his lips lingering there.

“Merry Christmas, Rose,” he whispered into her ear before drawing back to a more reasonable distance.

“Merry Christmas, Remus.”

Even now, the memory brought a goofy smile to her face whenever she thought about it.

As soon as Narcissa and Ryu finished up with the seamstress they parted ways, Narcissa and Rose apparating back to the manor. Dumping her purchases in her room, Rose hurried to the study. Prior to the shopping trip, she had been working on her journal article for McGonagall and was excited to get back to it. Pushing the heavy wooden doors open, Rose froze at the sight of Severus Snape standing there, glancing through the various papers and books she’d left out from her studies.

“Professor,” she greeted, settling on the title that was least painful to say. She wasn’t particularly surprised to see him, he was frequently a guest at the manor, but she hadn’t been prepared to open the door and find him standing here. “I think my father is still at the ministry.”

“Yes, he sent an owl to say he got hung up but would be back shortly.” Snape responded evenly. He lifted up a book titled _A Brief History of Lycanthropy_ and sneered, “Picked up a new hobby?”

“You pointed me in the general direction,” Rose snapped testily, referring to his stunt with the Wolfsbane Potion. Walking over, she pulled the book out of his hand. She began gathering up the papers while he continued to stand there, arms crossed, staring down his hooked nose at her.

“It’s not a topic that suits your talents.”

“That’s for me to decide, I think.”

“You have more important things to focus on.”

“If you must know,” Rose rounded on him in annoyance, stepping towards him. “I’m working on an article for _Transfiguration Today._ Professor McGonagall suggested it if I want to pursue research in the field.”

“Lycanthropy falls under the potions discipline.” Snape sneered at her. “I believe you abandoned study in that area.”

“I’m making the case for its inclusion as a field of research in transfiguration.” Rose said angrily, crossing her arms.

“How noble of you.” He deadpanned mockingly, and Rose felt heat rise to her face but continued to glare at him, his dark eyes locked with her own.

“Do we have to keep doing this?” Rose finally asked in exasperation.

“Do what?” Snape asked, and Rose lifted her eyebrows at him.

“ _This_. Fight all the time.”

“And what would you suggest we do instead?” he drawled, picking a bit of lint off his sleeve in evident boredom.

“How about a truce.”

“A truce? How diplomatic.”

“I’m serious, Severus.” Rose told him, her voice firm. “Are you even still upset? Really? We fought all the time, just like we’re doing now. We weren’t good together.”

“We were good together sometimes.” He replied quietly, and thoughts of their bodies entwined beneath the covers flitted across Rose’s mind.

“We were good sometimes.” She agreed running a hand through her hair awkwardly. “But was that ever going to be enough?”

“…I suppose not.” He agreed after a long pause, shifting his weight to the other foot.

“I’m sorry I’m not her,” Rose mumbled, looking down at her feet.

“What?” he asked, a sharp edge to his voice.

“I really am, Severus. I really wanted it to work. I’m so sorry.” Rose jumped when she felt his arms pull her into a tight embrace. She felt tears fall from her eyes as she buried her face in his chest. She could smell the familiar musty mix of potions ingredients on his robes, and she was almost ashamed of how much she had missed being in his arms.

“What are the terms of this truce?” He asked after a while, his chin resting on her head. Pulling away, Rose wiped the tears from her face and looked up at him.

“We try being friends.”

Snape scoffed at her.

“I mean it. Can’t Severus Snape have a friend?” She asked, tilting her head at him and giving him her most winning smile. The barest hint of a smile tugged at his own lips as he looked down at her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos, comment, bookmark! (still needy)


	16. Chapter 16

_She rose to his requirement, dropped  
The playthings of her life   
To take the honorable work   
Of woman and of wife. _

_If aught she missed in her new day  
Of amplitude, or awe,   
Or first prospective, or the gold   
In using wore away, _

_It lay unmentioned, as the sea  
Develops pearl and weed,   
But only to himself is known   
The fathoms they abide._

\- Emily Dickinson

“I can’t believe how fast you’ve grown up,” Narcissa said as she slipped the silvery tiara onto Rose’s head, stepping back and smiling down at her daughter with tears in her eyes. Rose smiled back at her, standing from the chair and folding Narcissa into a tight hug. In the low heals she wore Rose was slightly taller than her mother. She could remember the days when Narcissa’s tall thin frame towered over her. She really had grown up.

“Thanks for putting this all together mom.”

“I’d have nothing less for my daughter’s engagement. Ready?” Nodding, Rose followed her mother out of the room to see her father and brother standing there in their own dress robes. Draco looked like the spitting image of Lucius tonight.

“You look beautiful. You will carry the Malfoy name with pride tonight.” Lucius told her, stepping forward and kissing her temple. Rose smiled up at her father; his compliments meant everything to her. He offered her his arm, and Rose slipped one of her gloved hands around it, leaning into him affectionately as he escorted her into the main ball room. Draco escorted their mother in behind them. The hall was decorated tastefully for Christmas Eve—their traditional Christmas Party merged this year with the announcement of her engagement.

Soft background music was already playing, and plenty of party guests were milling around. Rose saw Stefan from across the room standing beside a witch and a wizard who were likely his parents. He looked very handsome in his black dress robes, the insides of which were a midnight blue that matched her own dress. His dark hair was slicked back from his angular face, and his ashy green eyes looked as nervous as she felt. He held out a hand for hers, and Rose realized her hand was shaking as she laid it in his own. She knew he could feel it as he wrapped her arm around his own, and she cursed herself for not being able to control her nerves. To her surprise, Stefan squeezed her hand comfortingly and smiled at her. He looked almost relieved to know that she was nervous too.

“Mother, father, may I present to you Miss Roselin Malfoy.” Stefan introduced, turning to face the pair. Stefan clearly took after his mother. She looked angular and severe in her dark dress, and her black hair was pulled back tightly from her face. The woman held an ornate fan in one hand, the other perched formally on her husband’s arm. Mr. Dolohov was quite her opposite in appearance. Pleasantly overweight, with honey blonde hair and a ruddy complexion, he was all smiles tonight.

“Roselin, these are my parents: Fabian and Margot Dolohov.” Rose dipped in a quick curtsy, trying not to stare at the pair.

“It’s lovely to finally meet you both,” Rose said demurely, grateful that her voice didn’t shake when she spoke.

“Charming, charming,” Fabian replied, grasping her free hand and kissing it affectionately. “You were not lying about her beauty, Lucius.”

“Did you doubt my honesty?” Lucius responded good-naturedly.

“Not at all, my good man. But a father’s eyes can make even the plainest girl a beauty. Clearly not the case here.” Fabian laughed, and Rose forced a smile in response.

“Please excuse me, I believe the minister just arrived,” Lucius said, glancing towards the ballroom’s entrance.

“Of course, of course,” Fabian waved him away. Rose watched her father leave in mild panic, gripping Stefan’s arm tighter. Fabian and Margot continued to observe Rose as if she was livestock they had just won at an auction.

“You know, you are the first woman our son has shown an interest in for many years,” Fabian told her conversationally, and Rose was shocked to hear this as she would hardly describe Stefan’s reaction to her at their last meeting ‘interested’. “We were beginning to worry he’d never give us grandchildren.”

“She is a bit tall and thin for childbearing… but her age should make up for that.” Margot’s syrupy voice said at last from behind the fluttering fan that half obscured her lips. Fabian smiled and patted his wife’s hand as if what she had just said had been a lovely remark rather than incredibly rude.

“And you’d never suspect the blood status with a pretty face like that.” Fabian replied to his wife as if Rose could not hear them.

“It’s unlikely the red hair will be passed on. But I suppose even red-headed grandchildren are better than none at all.”

“But imagine it, a _Potter_ , in our line. The power that defeated the Dark Lord flowing through our descendant’s veins—” Rose began to feel slightly sick to her stomach as the pair continued dissecting her. They wouldn’t have dared to speak about her like this were her father still here. No one had ever been so openly rude to her before. Was this what the Malfoy name had been protecting her from all these years?

“Mother, father, if you’ll excuse us,” Stefan cut them off, his voice amiable but steely. “I just saw some friends I’d like to introduce Roselin to.”

Fabian waved them away, a charming grin back on his face. “Of course, tonight is your night, enjoy. And Merry Christmas, Roselin.”

“Merry Christmas,” she mumbled back as Stefan pulled her away. Rose stared at the floor, trying not to cry. She wasn’t paying attention to where he was leading her until they had paused by the drink table, and Stefan practically shoved a drink into her hand. He gulped down half a glass of wine before looking at her apologetically.

“I am so sorry for my parents. I’m usually the one they treat like a disappointment—I can’t believe they said those things to you.” The sincerity in his eyes startled her out of her melancholy mood and she smiled at him.

“I can take it, I’m a big girl,” she joked, and he grinned at her appreciatively.

“I’m sure their attitude toward you will change once we start having children.” He said, and Rose took a few gulps of wine at this statement. Stefan laughed, sounding rather nervous himself. “No rush, of course.”

“Of course,” she managed to get out.

“Rose!” The two jumped and turned as Mariko approached the pair. She was dressed in a scarlet red dress that matched her lipstick and was practically dragging an amused looking Parker by the arm rather than allowing herself to be escorted.

“Mari,” Rose breathed in relief as the pair came to a stop in front of them. “Stefan these are my friends, Mariko Arai and Parker Smythe.”

“It’s so nice to meet you Stefan,” Mari grinned at him, holding out her hand which he took and kissed formally.

“A pleasure,” he responded immediately, his eyes turning to Parker. “Smythe? I believe I’ve had the pleasure of working with your father at the ministry.”

“Yes, sir, he speaks very highly of you.”

“You’ll have to give him my compliments. If the three of you will excuse me.” Stefan detangled himself from Rose’s arm and practically sprinted away. Rose threw back the rest of her glass of wine and picked up another one. Mari raised her eyebrows at this.

“I see the night’s going well already.” She observed dryly. Rose quickly filled the two of them in on the conversation with Stefan’s parents. Mari cringed appropriately, even though she’d been known to say similarly insensitive things about Rose’s half-blood status.

“What complete assholes. As if their blood is so pure,” she snarled at the conclusion of the story. “At least Stefan seems to be having as rough a time as you.”

“But that’s something I don’t understand. He’s the one who decided to move forward with the engagement.” Rose replied in a hushed whisper, utterly bewildered by his behavior.

“Maybe he’s just shy and doesn’t like parties,” Mari proposed with a shrug. “Clearly he feels something for you, or he wouldn’t have talked about his parents like that.”

“Yes, he must be crazy about me to have ditched me at our own engagement party given the first opportunity.” Rose mumbled in annoyance, finishing her second glass of wine.

“Go easy on those,” Mari warned, “You have a long night ahead of you.”

“You’re one to talk,” Rose pouted, but didn’t reach for a third glass. Mari was right. If she got sloppy drunk at this party, she could only imagine the abuse the Dolohov’s would heap on her. Glancing up, she fixed a smile on her face as Draco wandered over to the three of them.

“Patsy not here yet?” She asked, and Draco sighed loudly at her.

“Pansy, her name is _Pansy_.” Draco corrected in an annoyed drawl. Mari snickered into her glass of wine. Draco looked Rose over critically. “Father won’t like that he’s left you unescorted.”

“He’ll be right back,” Rose replied defensively, and Draco raised a brow.

“If you say so….” And something about the way he said those words made her suspicious.

“Why do you say that Draco?” Rose asked accusingly, and he shrugged apathetically.

“I saw him in the hallway a minute ago. Looked like he was in the middle of a row.”

“A row? With whom?”

“Some guy. Red robes, blonde hair, I didn’t recognize him.” Draco shrugged. “They stopped when I walked by.”

“ _Merlin_ , you Malfoys are so dramatic,” Mari complained. “I thought you were going to say you caught him snogging someone.”

Rose laughed nervously. If she was honest, she’d thought the same.

“Come dance with me Draco,” Rose told him, grabbing his arm and ignoring his protests as she pulled her brother towards the dance floor.

This turned out to be a great way to pass the time without it looking suspicious that Stefan was not with her. After Draco danced with her a couple times, other guests were quick to claim a dance and congratulate her on the engagement. Fabian Dolohov even took her through the steps to a waltz and complimented Rose on her dancing. When the next hand grasped her own and pulled her in as the next song began, Rose looked up into the dark eyes of Severus Snape.

“Professor,” she breathed in surprise. “I didn’t see you come in.”

“You were preoccupied with Mr. Dolohov at the time.” He answered, spinning her lazily in time to the music. He looked handsome tonight in his all black dress robes. The warm lighting in the hall gave his normally pallid skin a warmth and youth it usually lacked. “Speaking of Dolohov the elder, I haven’t seen his son anywhere.”

“He’s around…” Rose mumbled, not meeting his eyes. She hadn’t seen her fiancé since the beginning of the party, and they were now hours in. Severus, apparently in an attempt to abide by their recent truce, didn’t comment further on this.

“I suppose I should congratulate you,” Snape said, and Rose was keenly aware of his hand on her bare back and his warm fingers clutching her own.

“Please don’t…” she managed to say through a lump in her throat. Somehow, she couldn’t stand the idea of her ex-lover congratulating her on an engagement to a man they both knew she didn’t love. Severus pulled her closer and she laid her head on his chest, trying to steady her breathing. She felt his thumb rubbing small circles on her back as Rose tried very hard not to cry.

“Roselin… are you sure you’re not about to do something that will make you miserable,” he said after a while. Rose laughed, not moving her head from his shoulder.

“You sound like Lupin.” She felt his whole body tense at this statement, and his voice was more clipped when he spoke again.

“Far be it from me to agree with a werewolf. But in this case… he might be right.” Rose glanced up at him in surprise, his dark eyes staring into her own as the song came to an end.

“You know it doesn’t work like that.”

“No, I suppose not.”

“Excuse me, Professor, if I might cut in?” The two jumped apart at Stefan Dolohov’s voice, and Severus gave him a sneering smile, dropping Rose’s gloved hand. She didn’t have time to watch him leave as Stefan pulled her into his arms and the next song began. She noticed that his normally pale face was slightly flushed. Clearly, he’d had a few more drinks than he should have.

“The two of you seem close,” he observed casually, and Rose tried not to blush.

“Severus is an old family friend,” she said automatically.

“I’m embarrassed to admit he’s always terrified me, but I was a very poor potioneer,” he joked.

“That’s definitely one way to earn his ire,” Rose replied with a smile, suddenly becoming aware that she and Stefan were the only couple now dancing. As she glanced around, Stefan stepped back and knelt before her, pulling a velvet box out of the sleeve of his robe. Rose felt her heartbeat quicken and the room begin to swim as he flipped the box open to reveal a silver engagement ring set with an enormous diamond in the center. Rose could feel the panic starting in her stomach. She could hear the silence in the room while everyone watched and see the flash of cameras in her peripheral vision. Clearly this had been planned.

“Will you marry me, Rose?” He asked, as people ooh-ed and ahh-ed from the outskirts of the dance floor. Rose felt like she was having an out of body experience, as if she was watching this happen to someone else. She could almost see her lips forming the word ‘yes’, though no sound came out, and watched as he stood and slid the ring onto her finger. She felt as though the applause was coming from a very long way off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos, comments, bookmarks!


	17. Chapter 17

_“If I were to live my life  
in catfish forms  
in scaffolds of skin and whiskers  
at the bottom of a pond  
and you were to come by  
one evening  
when the moon was shining  
down into my dark home  
and stand there at the edge  
of my affection  
and think, "It's beautiful  
here by this pond. I wish  
somebody loved me,"_

_I'd love you and be your catfish  
friend and drive such lonely  
thoughts from your mind  
and suddenly you would be  
at peace…”_

\- Richard Brautigan [Your Catfish Friend]

Rose still didn’t snap back to reality as the pair weathered the onslaught of guests who came up and congratulated the two all over again. They fawned over her ring and the massive diamond that adorned it. She wasn’t sure when she obtained a glass of wine but was grateful for the many excuses to drink as various toasts were given. Soon, three glasses had been drunk in a much too short amount of time, and she was well on her way into the fourth. What finally snapped her back into the present moment was the approach of a man in crimson dress robes with curling blonde hair that fell into his handsome face. Rose realized this must have been the person Draco had seen Stefan arguing with earlier.

“Congratulations Stefan, Miss Malfoy,” he said, though his voice sounded slightly pinched and his smile was tight.

“Roselin, this is Damien. He’s an old friend; I was a few years behind him at Hogwarts.”

“It’s lovely to meet you,” Rose parroted the same phrase she’d been using all night, trying to remember why his name and face seemed familiar.

“I’ve been wanting to introduce the two of you,” Stefan continued. “Damien is an up and coming star in the field of transfiguration and he works closely with both the Unspeakables at the Ministry and the Healers at St. Mungo’s doing Merlin-knows-what.”

“You’re Damien Angevin,” Rose exclaimed suddenly, her cheeks flushing a bright red at the stupidity of her comment when the two men stared at her in surprise. “I’ve read your articles in _Transfiguration Today_ and your theories on human transfiguration. You received their Most Promising Newcomer Award when you graduated Hogwarts!”

“It’s always nice to meet a fan,” Damien smiled at her charmingly, his initial frostiness wearing off slightly at her enthusiasm. “Stefan tells me you’re interested in continuing transfiguration studies after your N.E.W.Ts exams.”

“More than anything,” Rose said, taken aback at her own enthusiasm.

“Well, maybe we can schedule a tour of our lab and clinic over the Easter holidays if you’re not too busy with N.E.W.T.s studies,” Damien offered, his eyes full of humor at her excitement.

“I’d love that.” Rose grinned at him.

“Have you gotten published yet?” he asked curiously.

“I’m actually working on an article now. I’m hoping it will publish in the spring.” She said, half-apologetically.

“I look forward to reading it. Well, it was lovely to meet you, dear. I don’t want to keep the two of you.” Stepping past them, Damien squeezed Stefan’s shoulder affectionately as he slid by and the line of congratulators continued. Despite the warmth that meeting one of her transfiguration heroes had caused, the body numbing anxiety was quick to return as the evening wore on. Rose felt as if the smile she was wearing had been permanently transfixed to her face. Her body became hot from the wine she was ingesting at a prodigious rate, and soon the room and crowd made her feel like she couldn’t breathe. The ring on her finger seemed to be growing tighter, and tighter, and tighter.

“If you’ll excuse me, Stefan, I need to go freshen up,” Rose murmured after the crowd had mostly dispersed. Slipping away quickly, her heart raced while she rushed out of the main ball room and down a side corridor to her own personal chambers. Rose collapsed to the ground by her bed, nearly hyperventilating. For a moment she was afraid she was going to throw up as the world spun around her and her ribcage felt like it was constricting about her heart. She was engaged. She was very publicly engaged to Stefan Dolohov. She would marry him and have his pureblood children and smile at his rude parents. ‘ _You were already engaged, Rose_ ,’ she bereted herself, ‘ _it was just ceremonial_.’ But somehow the act of the proposal had made it real for her in a way it hadn’t been before. When a soft knock came from the door, Rose was still shaking all over, the tears she’d held back earlier in the night spilling down her face. She brushed them away furiously, smearing mascara across her white gloves.

“One—one moment,” Rose gasped, continuing to tremble, but the door creaked open and Severus let himself into her room silently, shutting the door behind her. They stared at each other for a moment before Rose picked herself off the floor and threw herself into his arms. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight to his chest, and rubbed her back comfortingly.

“Breathe, Roselin,” he told her, and she tried. She listened to his rhythmic heartbeat and tried to match her own shaky breath with his long steady ones. Eventually she calmed and pulled back enough to look up at him. He cupped her face with both hands, wiping her tears away with his thumbs.

“You stupid girl,” he said derisively, but there was no true venom behind his words, only pity. Rose closed her eyes at the touch of his hands and before she realized what she was doing, she had grabbed the front of his robes and pulled him to her, her lips crashing into his. Part of her knew this was a terrible idea, but she was lonely and drunk and terrified and wanted to feel loved.

“Rose,” Severus mumbled warningly, pushing her back, and gripping her shoulders firmly.

“Severus,” she nearly moaned his name, trying to drag him towards her again, but he held her firm. She looked at him in confusion, his dark eyes were full of desire, she knew he wanted her.

“You’re drunk, Roselin.” He told her firmly, and she shook her head in denial. He led her back towards the bed and pressed her down into a sitting position. She tried to bring him with her but he slapped at her hands.

“Ouch,” she pouted at him.

“I might be rusty at this friendship affair, but I don’t think friends use one another.” He drawled pointedly, and Rose felt this was very unfair as he had been using her for months without her knowledge.

“Is it using if we both get something out of it,” she purred, flipping her long red hair over her shoulder and looked up at him from beneath dark lashes. Snape looked incredibly tempted for a moment before sighing and moving towards the door.

“Severus—”

“Stay.” He told her firmly before leaving the room, and she crossed her arms in annoyance trying not to start trembling again. The room spun slightly, and Rose had to admit that she might be more drunk than she’d thought. When the door opened again, Rose opened her mouth to apologize, but the words died when she saw that it was Stefan Dolohov who walked in, not Severus Snape. He closed the door quietly and ran a hand through his dark hair, causing some of the slicked back tendrils to fall into his concerned face. They stared at each other for a long moment before he walked over and sat on the bed next to her, offering Rose a glass of water he had brought with him. Rose took the cup shakily and gulped it down just for something to do that didn’t include looking at her fiancé.

“He told me you were here,” Stefan said after she placed the empty glass on her nightstand. Rose began cursing Severus Snape in her head.

“Stefan, I’m sorry, I’m fine, I just—”

“No, Rose,” he cut her off, sighing and running his hands through his hair again. “I’m the one who should apologize. I should have taken things slower. My parents have become more… _insistent_ that I take a wife lately, I am their only heir and they’ve been getting more and more anxious. When Lucius suggested you, it seemed the perfect opportunity. I was so focused on myself I never stopped to consider your feelings, I’m so sorry.”

“Stefan,” Rose breathed in surprise. She had expected him to yell at her or be disgusted to find her crying in her room during their engagement party. She certainly hadn’t expected an apology from him. The two looked at each other for a long time, Rose examining his face and the sincerity in his eyes. He really was handsome, especially with his slightly disheveled hair and eyes bright with tears of his own. Hesitantly, she leaned in and pressed her lips to his experimentally. He tensed but didn’t pull away, letting her kiss him. When she pulled back, he was too slow to hide the panic in his eyes.

“You don’t feel anything for me either,” she said—something she’d already long expected. Stefan looked down at his lap, twisting the sleeve of his robes in his hands nervously.

“It isn’t like that. You are a beautiful young woman, Rose, and I can tell you’re intelligent and driven, all the qualities I would want in a wife."

"But..." she prompted gently.

"But,” Stefan took a big gulp of air, obvious panic on his face now. “Rose I don’t like… I’m not attracted to… to women.”

“Oh… _oh_.” Rose managed after a long pause. Putting a hand to her mouth, Rose began to giggle half in drunkenness and half in relief. Stefan looked bewildered at this reaction, before finally managing a rueful smile and chuckle of his own. So many things suddenly clicked together for her at this confession. “Damien…”

“Yes, Damien.” Stefan agreed, rubbing the back of his head. “My parents would never accept it. They’d disown me immediately or worse. You have to understand, Rose, normally when I’m introduced to women, they’re all over me. Fawning over my family, my wealth, my prestige. But when I met you, you looked as terrified as I felt, and I didn’t feel so alone. I thought, if it was you, maybe I wouldn’t mind marrying. I realized that we were the same.”

“Why not tell them? Surely you have enough resources that you’d be alright....” Stefan held her gaze evenly for a long moment.

“They’re my family, Rose. What would you do for your family?” He asked sadly, and Rose looked down at the engagement ring on her finger and the mascara smears on her gloves and realized Stefan was right. They really were the same.

“Anything,” she answered, and they smiled at one another with knowing sadness. Reaching out, Stefan took both her hands in his own, turning his body to face her the best he could, their knees brushing. He looked at her with a sincerity she didn’t know he could possess.

“Rose, I promise you that you will want for nothing. I will care for you and provide for you and protect you. I will give you a home and children to look after if you want them, whether they are our biological children or not. I will be a husband you can be proud of, and I will do everything I can to make your dreams a reality. And… as long as we are both discreet, I don’t see why we shouldn’t both have a chance at finding love….” Stefan finished his speech questioningly, his eyes never leaving her own.

Was this man someone she could spend the rest of her life with—if not as a lover then as a friend? Rose examined him, the unexpected vulnerability he was showing tugging at her heart, it reminded her so much of Lupin. Slowly, hesitantly, Rose nodded. She didn’t think she could ask for a better arrangement than the one he proposed. They would both retain the prestige and approval of their families, he would support her ambitions, and both would turn a blind eye to the other’s lovers. It seemed a truly advantageous match. After fixing her makeup and the stains on her gloves, Rose was able to return to the party with Stefan, a new and unexpected understanding between them.

The next morning, the Malfoys, Dolohovs, Arais, and a few other close family guests shared a cozy Christmas brunch together, and Severus passed pepper-up potion around for those who had overindulged the previous night. When they removed to the lounge to exchange gifts, Stefan claimed the seat next to Rose on the couch and slung an arm around her shoulders. Mari raised her eyebrows at Rose at this new display of affection, but Rose didn’t meet her eyes, trying to act as if she hadn’t noticed the unspoken inquiry. She was worried that if she met Mari's eyes she would somehow discover everything, and Rose couldn't let that happen. Stefan had trusted her with a secret unknown to all but a select few. She could not break his trust by telling anyone. Severus was also watching the pair intently, and when Rose leaned over and kissed Stefan’s cheek after opening his present for her, he stood up and left the room without a word. Rose watched him go while leaning into Stefan’s shoulder and tried to think about anything else. She thought of the mandrake leaves in her room and how she would have to put one in her mouth at midnight tonight. And that made her think of how it was the full moon and how she hoped Remus was managing to have a pleasant Christmas even though he was likely feeling awful.

Back at Hogwarts, Remus Lupin was sitting on the couch in front of his fireplace, wrapped up in the comforter from his bed. Other than feeling slightly feverish, his symptoms hadn’t been too bad leading up to this moon. Mostly he was just feeling lonely cooped up in his apartments on Christmas, though the decorations were helping a little. Glancing up at the mistletoe, Remus felt a traitorous smile cross his face as he remembered the adorable blush that had spread across her face when he’d kissed her cheek. He could still feel the softness of her skin against his lips and smell the flowery scents of her hair.

Remus shook his head to clear them of thoughts of her. This was becoming a real problem, he told himself sternly. She was his student, and he was her professor. She was also the daughter of two of his best friends who were probably looking down on him right now cursing his name. Somehow, rather than putting more distance between them, the discovery of his condition had brought them closer together. When she came back, he’d need to set clearer boundaries between them. He’d need to treat her just like everyone else.

Remus looked over his shoulder as a tapping began at his window. He got up quickly upon seeing a barn owl fluttering there, weighed down with a small package. Opening the window, the bird flew in, deposited the package on the coffee table, and flew back out the window. Remus picked up the package curiously, glancing at the familiar handwriting on the note. It read:

‘ _Saw these and thought of you. Merry Christmas, Remus_.’

She hadn’t signed her name, but he was in no doubt as to who had sent him the gift. Unwrapping it carefully, Remus looked at the box of gourmet chocolates shaped like small dog bones. Staring for a moment, Remus began to laugh, shaking his head at her antics. Popping one of the dog bones into his mouth, Lupin closed his eyes in enjoyment. They were delicious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos, comment, bookmark!


	18. Chapter 18

**Trigger warning** : this chapter may be triggering for those of the LGBTQ+ community who have experienced family rejection or abuse. If this is a sensitive topic for you, feel free to read until Mari and Rose have a conversation on the train, then skip down to the last few paragraphs.

_Flowerbeds are umbrellas  
umbrellas are rubrics  
I support your identification  
and your disidentification_

_Men are from women  
roses are from Jupiter  
women are from men  
I can't tell which is softer,  
your lips or this pillow  
or the snow descending gracefully outside._

\- Trace Peterson [Exclusively on Venus]

The morning of their return to Hogwarts was chaotic as always. There was the usual rush through breakfast, the last minute packing, scouring the manor to be sure neither of the Malfoy children had forgotten anything, the bustle out the door with all of their luggage, the usual sneers at the muggles as they bustled through King’s Cross station, and the attempts to casually enter platform 9 ¾ without making it look like the family was queuing. Rose walked through the brick wall, holding Stefan’s hand—he had insisted on coming to see her off. The two had spent the last few days of break spending time together and working to hastily perfect their act as a couple in the beginnings of a romance. When the two stepped off to the side of the platform to let others through the wall, Stefan squeezed her hand affectionately.

“I’ll talk with Damien about the tour he promised you over Easter, and maybe I can come visit during another one of your Hogsmeade trips. I’d like to get to know you better before…” Stefan trailed off, but Rose filled in the end of his sentence easily in her mind ‘ _before the wedding_.’

“I’d like that too,” Rose replied, feeling almost shy. He grinned at her and ruffled his hair with his hand, looking around the platform awkwardly. She had never thought that the stiff and formal man she’d met in the Three Broomsticks months ago would be able to smile so easily at her now. The rest of the Malfoys had made it through the barrier and were standing just far enough away to give the pair some semblance of privacy. This tactful choice was certainly Narcissa’s doing, as Lucius was craning his neck to watch the two with hawklike intensity. Apart from Severus Snape, Lucius had been the only one to be irritated by the growing displays of affection between herself and Stefan—though for very different reasons. He seemed to be struggling between his happiness that his daughter would be marrying a well-to-do pureblood and his dislike of seeing his little girl being touched by a man.

“Rose, I—I don’t know what to say. Before Christmas I was dreading the future and now… now I feel like we might make this work,” Stefan told her for the millionth time.

“Thank you for trusting me with your secret,” Rose responded immediately, her heart warm with affection for her fiancé—her ally. The pair looked up at the train giving a warning whistle, and students began crowding aboard.

“Until next time then,” Stefan said.

“Until next time,” she agreed, and was so surprised when he leaned in and kissed her cheek that the blush that rose to her face was quite genuine. Lucius cleared his throat loudly at this behavior and the pair looked at him sheepishly. Narcissa elbowed him none too gently in the ribs and smiled misty-eyed at the pair while Draco mimed a gagging motion behind her back. Receiving a hug and kiss from both of their parents, Rose and Draco said their goodbyes and clambered onto the train. Climbing aboard the train to Hogwarts brought on a melancholy nostalgia as she remembered her first time boarding the Hogwarts Express seven years ago with Mari at her side, praying to whatever gods were out there that she’d be sorted into Slytherin.

“See you at school,” Draco said as he slid into a compartment with his friends. Rose rolled her eyes at how quick he was to ditch her.

“Rose!” Mari called from behind her, and Rose paused to let her friend catch up. She was brandishing the Daily Prophet in front of her. “You made the paper.”

“I what?” She asked, and Mari flipped the _Prophet_ open to one of the middle pages, where a picture of Rose standing in the middle of the Malfoy’s ballroom with Stefan kneeling in front her was titled ‘ _Perpetual Bachelor Stefan Dolohov, Warlock of the Wizengamot, Announces Engagement to Malfoy Heiress_ ’. Rose was pleased to see that the shocked expression on her portrait’s face as the miniature Dolohov placed a ring on her finger could easily be mistaken for excitement rather than terror.

“You two seemed to be warming up to each other after the party,” Mari observed shrewdly as the two started moving again to keep from blocking up the corridor.

“I guess it’s like you said, we just needed to get to know each other better.” Rose said, glancing in the compartments to keep an eye out for Ava and Sam. When they finally did stumble across their compartment, Rose could tell at a glance that something was very wrong. Ava was wearing loose fitting jeans, a t-shirt, and a knit cap and was crying hard into Sam’s shoulder. Sam was holding her tight and looking absolutely furious. Rose and Mari slid quickly into the compartment, Mari drawing the curtains over the windows for some privacy. As soon as they finished shoving their trunks into the rack over their heads, the two sat down and looked at Ava in concern and bewilderment.

“Ava, sweetie, what’s wrong,” Rose asked tentatively, reaching out and rubbing her arm. Ava pulled back from Sam’s arms and Rose could see immediately what was wrong. Ava had dark circles under puffy bloodshot eyes, as though she’d been crying on and off for days. Stubble had filled in across her chin and cheeks and not a drop of makeup was to be seen on her face. Lifting her hand, Ava slowly pulled the knit cap she’d been wearing off her head to reveal that her once long brown hair was now cropped close to her scalp. The cut was poorly done as if someone had taken kitchen scissors to it.

“Merlin,” Mari breathed in disbelief and tears continued to roll quietly down Ava’s face.

“I’m going to kill him,” Sam said, her voice shaking in fury. Rose didn’t have to ask who the ‘him’ was, there was no doubt in her mind that Ava’s transphobic father had done this to her.

“I knew he was angry, but I never thought—” Ava’s quiet voice trailed off and she buried her face in her hands again. “I worked so hard to grow out my hair! Look at me now, I look so—”

“You look beautiful,” Sam cut her off fiercely, pulling her hands from her face and leaning in to kiss her cheek. “And I will make sure he never so much as looks at you again.”

Standing up, Rose pulled her trunk back out and fished around for the comb Narcissa had sent her at the start of term. Handing it to Ava she explained, “It speeds up hair growth. I want you to have it.”

With a dry sob, Ava threw her arms around Rose, hugging her tightly. Once the three of them calmed her down, Sam helped Ava comb out her short hair and Mari worked to even out the layers with her wand, styling it into a passable pixie cut. Rose carefully worked to vanish the facial hair Ava had accumulated over break and the three pulled out makeup to help Ava style her face the way she liked. After looking at herself in a small compact, Ava tried hard not to start crying again and lapsed into hiccupping uncontrollably instead. Sam managed to coax her into laying her head on her lap and soon Ava’s hiccups died down, and she fell into a restless sleep.

“I want to kill him,” Sam said again, looking down at her girlfriend with a mix of anger and love. Mari and Rose both nodded quietly. Ava was the kindest person they’d ever met, and she deserved so much more than a family who couldn’t accept her. “I’m going to ask her to move in with me after we graduate.”

“Will the two of you be able to afford that?” Mari asked tentatively, and Sam glared at her.

“We’ll figure it out. I’ll make it so she never has to go back there.”

The four of them spent the rest of the train ride in relative quiet. Rose pulled out one of her books on lycanthropy and tried to read, but mostly found herself zoning out at the page. How could someone’s family be so cruel? Rose thought of Stefan and his parents and how certain he had been that they would react horribly if he came out to them. Rose thought of Lucius and Narcissa, would they have reacted like that if she’d refused to marry Stefan? She couldn’t picture it. They had only ever loved her. But then she thought of Remus Lupin, thought of him holding her, of him brushing the hair back from her face, of his lips on her cheek, and suddenly it wasn’t so hard to imagine a furious Lucius Malfoy threatening to disown her.

Shivering, Rose stared out the window at the darkening sky. She remembered some of the other pureblood boys she’d been introduced to, the ones with cruel mocking eyes, the ones with hands that would stray too high up her leg or touch too low on her back when no one was looking. The ones who looked at her like she was a piece of meat they would tear into given the first opportunity. Looking down at her engagement ring, Rose twisted it nervously around her finger. Stefan was her protection from all of that, and she needed to be careful not to forget it.

Rose was still feeling depressed when she and Mari sat down at the Slytherin table for dinner. Mari seemed to be in a similar funk, pensively pushing her food around on her plate. Her spirits were lifted slightly when she caught sight of Remus Lupin walking in the entrance. Their eyes locked almost immediately, and she waved at him enthusiastically. She couldn’t help drinking in the sight of him; enjoying the casual but confident way he walked, his tall figure, broad shoulders, and the warm smile on his face. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed him over the holidays. He paused at their seats on the way to the staff table and grinned down at her.

“Welcome back, Rose, Mari,” he greeted them, tucking his copy of _The Daily Prophet_ under his arm. Rose’s eyes took in each scar on his cheek and the way the corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled, and her heart did a small flip in her ribcage.

“Thanks Professor,” they chorused.

“Did you have a good holiday?” Rose inquired, unable to tear her gaze from his face.

“It was fine, a bit quiet. I enjoyed your Christmas gift,” he said wryly. Rose’s grin widened mischievously.

“I thought they were appropriate.”

“I’m sure,” he laughed. And as he walked past to head up to the staff table, he squeezed her shoulder affectionately. Rose was amazed how the most casual touch from him could light her whole body on fire. Looking down at her plate, Rose tried to hide the goofy grin she knew was there by shoveling some food into her mouth.

“You got him a Christmas present?” Mari asked skeptically, picking at her own food.

“He likes chocolate, I got him some when we were at that sweets shop you dragged me into.” Rose replied nonchalantly. She couldn’t help glancing up at Lupin from time to time while they ate, feeling an enjoyable bubbling heat in her stomach each time their eyes locked over the top of his newspaper.

Just as she was tucking into a slice of pecan pie, Rose was startled by the sound of loud coughing coming from the staff table. Looking up in alarm, she saw that Lupin was coughing hard after having presumably taken a far too large gulp of his pumpkin juice. Hagrid leaned over and smacked him on the back with bruising force a couple times until his coughing fit subsided. As soon as Remus seemed to get control of himself again, his gaze jumped straight to Rose’s face and then down to her left hand. Her cheeks coloring, Rose casually slipped the hand which bore her rather ostentatious engagement ring under the table. Lupin immediately buried his head back in his copy of the _Prophet_ , reading intently. Clearly, he had just stumbled across the article on her engagement. Rose sighed regretfully to herself. ‘ _Oops_.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos, comment, bookmark!


	19. Chapter 19

_I will hold your voice in a little box  
And when you come upon me I won’t look back at you  
You will feel a hand upon your heart while I place your voice back  
Into the heart from where it came from  
And I will not cry also  
Although you will expect me to  
I was wiser too than you had expected  
For I knew all along you were mine_

\- Dorothea Lasky [Poem to an Unnamable Man]

Rose was living in a strange sort of hellish nightmare in which Severus Snape’s foulest mood seemed to have possessed the usually kind and considerate Remus Lupin. When they graded papers together, he took great pains not to look at her or even speak to her and when he did, he was short and clipped with her in a way he’d never been before. In classes he was overly critical of her technique or overtly hostile if he caught her goofing off with Sam or Mari. If they passed in the hallways, he would do so as quickly as possible, acting as if he couldn’t hear her if she greeted him.

“What did you _do_ to him?” Sam whispered to her after one class where he’d threatened her with detention if he caught her talking out of turn again. Rose, who was nearly in tears at the time, could only shrug because how could she tell Sam that what she had done wrong was get engaged to Stefan Dolohov?

It was too much to hope that Severus Snape would inherit Remus’ kindly nature in the meantime. Instead, despite their recent attempts at a truce, Severus had gone back to his usual mocking sneers when he wasn’t outright ignoring her. Clearly, he felt as though she had broken their truce with her behavior at the Christmas Party. In another situation, Rose might have agreed that her actions had been out of line and apologized, but with Lupin stoking her anger as well, she felt justified wallowing in pettiness and self-pity. Rose was sure she was going to strangle one of them but couldn’t yet decide who was making her angrier.

On top of Remus’ recent personality transplant, Rose seemed to have so much to do it was driving her crazy. Their homework load as the N.E.W.T.s drew ever closer seemed to increase exponentially. On top of the homework she was still trying to finish up her journal article for McGonagall. Slytherin’s match with Ravenclaw was fast approaching which they needed to win to stay in the tournament. And, most irritatingly, she seemed to be constantly receiving letters from her mother regarding the wedding. The letters were always full of questions Rose really didn’t want to bother with. What did she think of a summer wedding; wouldn’t it be just perfect if she was a June bride? What colors did she want for her color palette? Had she thought about her bridesmaids yet—she needed to ask friends soon so she could have their dresses made. What did she think of a bouquet of roses, wouldn’t it be adorable with her name? And on and on and on it went.

As Rose trudged her way up to Lupin’s office from a Quidditch practice, she sincerely considered skiving off. Flint was beginning to focus more and more on brainstorming underhanded tactics rather than actually practicing, not seeming to understand that if they constantly got called on penalties the other team would be almost guaranteed a win. When she’d pointed this out, Flint had snapped at her testily. She was in a particularly bad mood because a bludger hit to her stomach towards the end of practice had caused her to cough so hard she had spat out the mandrake leaf she’d managed to keep in her mouth for the past two weeks. She’d made it nearly halfway and would now have to start all over again at the next full moon. Rose wondered if using a sticking charm to attach it to her cheek for a month would mess up the potion. She’d have to ask McGonagall.

As she rounded a corner, Rose’s eyes were drawn to a very pale Harry Potter leaning his forehead against a wall, breathing shallowly. His eyes were closed, and he looked sick. Rose almost walked past him, reminding herself that he was Harry Potter, and she really didn’t care about him. But he looked so ill and sad she couldn’t help pausing in concern. She thought briefly that maybe she had been the one to inherit Lupin’s kindly nature while he was busy making an ass of himself.

“Harry?” She asked tentatively, and he jumped and wiped the sweat from his forehead, blinking his green eyes at her in surprise. “Are you… okay? Do you need me to take you to the hospital wing?”

“N-no, I’m fine,” he said and lifted a small square of chocolate to his lips, popping it into his mouth. As soon as he ate it, color started to return to his face. Rose’s eyes narrowed immediately.

“Did you run into dementors? There shouldn’t be any in the castle.” Rose drew her wand and glanced around in concern.

“No!” he exclaimed, a little too loudly, and Rose lowered her wand, looking at him with raised eyebrows. Harry blushed and looked at his feet. “Professor Lupin is trying to teach me the Patronus Charm since they affect me so much.”

“Oh,” Rose replied lamely, tucking her wand back in her sleeve. She’d heard about Harry’s fall from his broom during Gryffindor’s last match—Draco had reenacted it for weeks. “Well…. See you.”

“Do you remember it… that night?” Harry asked quietly, and Rose, who had already taken a few steps towards the classroom door, froze and turned back slowly. She considered him for a long moment before answering.

“Bits of it,” Rose said honestly, feeling slightly sick to her stomach. She could almost feel her forehead pressed against the wooden door of the closet as she stared through the crack at the dark figure with scarlet eyes and deathly pale skin. Could hear Lily’s pleading voice and see the flash of green before everything went dark and rubble covered her hiding place—the sound of a baby crying in the dark.

“I can hear them—mom and dad…. When the dementors get close.” Harry told her, and Rose’s throat constricted. “I can hear you too, you’re crying.”

Rose stared at him silently while Harry rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands; she tried to pretend she didn’t notice the tears on his face. Rose opened her mouth, closed it again, considered reaching out to hug him, stopped herself because that was ridiculous, and cleared her throat awkwardly, rubbing the back of her head with her hand.

“I wish I could remember them.” He said after a moment.

“They loved you,” Rose said awkwardly. Green eyes met hazel ones, and the two shared a strained smile. “You… you look like him.”

“You look like her,” he said, and she knew he was remembering the people he’d seen in the mirror two years ago.

“Do you want me to walk you back to Gryffindor tower?” Rose asked, somehow not upset that Harry had compared her to Lily. It didn’t feel the same coming from him. There was no expectation behind it, just an observation. He knew better than anyone that she wasn’t their mother.

“Trying for some family bonding, Malfoy?” He mocked halfheartedly.

“As if you’d be so lucky, Potter.” She rolled her eyes at him, but there was a small smile on her face. “Try not to run into any murderers on the way back.”

“No promises,” he grinned as the two parted ways.

When Rose entered the classroom, she was surprised to see Lupin sitting on the bottom of the steps that led up to his office, his head in his hands. She expected him to look up when she approached but he seemed lost in his thoughts. He looked slumped and old sitting there, his gray hair pronounced in the candlelight. His skin as was pale as if it was the day of the full moon.

‘ _Harry must have told him about what he heard_ ,’ Rose realized with a grimace, cursing Harry in her head. But then, Lupin probably hadn’t told Harry how close he’d been with them. Harry hadn’t known how much it would upset him.

“Remus,” she said tentatively, touching his shoulder with her hand. He jumped at her touch, looking up at her with tired eyes. She could tell from the wince on his face that looking at her was painful right now. She imagined when he looked at her that he was seeing his two friends, envisioning their final moments. She hated it. With a sigh, Rose reached out and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, drawing him close to her, she let him rest his head against her stomach and ran her hand gently through his hair. She held still as his shoulders began to shake and didn’t pull away when he slowly wrapped his arms around her, his fingers clutching tightly at the back of her blouse just above her skirt. In another situation she would have trembled to be held like this by him, but now she was tired, sad, and still angry with him.

“Why don’t we go upstairs,” Rose suggested after a few minutes, and he let her lead him by the hand up to his office, through the tapestry, and settle him onto the couch by the fireplace. Turning to go, Rose was halfway through the door before he spoke.

“You’re leaving?” He asked hollowly, and Rose leveled spiteful eyes on him.

“Oh, are we talking now? You haven’t wanted anything to do with me for weeks.” She spat at him angrily. His gaze dropped to his hands in his lap.

“I’m sorry, Rose. It wasn’t fair of me—”

“You’re damn right it wasn’t fair!” she cut him off, and Remus looked up at her in exasperation. “I didn’t do anything to you, and you’ve been treating me like garbage ever since I got back from break.”

“What do you want me to say?” Remus asked, standing from the couch and walking towards her. “That I was angry? That I was taking it out on you? That I was being childish? I was, I’m sorry, I can’t change what I did.”

“Well just because you’re ready to stop being angry doesn’t mean I am,” she shouted, stabbing him in the chest with her finger. He grabbed her hand reflexively, looking down at her with a long silent stare. “Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Looking at me with those sad eyes and your stupid handsome face,” she hissed in irritation. The ghost of a boyish grin returned to his face at her words.

“You think I’m handsome?” He asked, and her face colored slightly.

“You already knew that.” She grumbled, and his grin widened.

“It sounds nice when you say it.” He grinned, running his thumb across her knuckles affectionately.

“I’m leaving.” She announced immediately, trying to cling to her anger. She was not done being mad at him. But Remus leaned over and pressed his other hand against the door.

“Stay.” He said, and his voice was low, and Rose thought it sounded the way honey tasted. She could feel the heat pooling in her stomach at the way he towered over her and how close he was and part of her wanted to grab him and snog him and the other part of her wanted to hit him.

“No.” she said with a sniff, turning and trying to wrench the door open with both hands. It didn’t budge. When she turned back to shout at him, he had moved his other hand to the door as well, effectively trapping her. Rose could feel moisture between her thighs as their eyes locked once more, her heart feeling like it might jump out of her chest with how fast it was beating. Remus was looking at her with a mixture of amusement and desire.

“Tell me what to say, Rose, tell me what to do to show you I’m sorry.”

“Say you were being an awful git.”

“I was being the most terrible, insensitive, pigheaded git.” He said with a grin tugging at his lips, and she couldn’t help but smile back. It took her a moment to remember she was still upset.

“Tell me you won’t ever do that to me again.”

“I promise I won’t ever treat you that way again,” he said immediately, and she felt like she was going to drown in his blue eyes. He had shifted so that his right forearm now pressed against the door allowing him to lean casually closer, making her tilt her head up to meet his gaze. There weren’t many men who towered over her the way he did, and it made her breath catch in her throat.

“Tell me…,” Rose took a breath, lifting a hand to tug lightly at the tie he was wearing, drawing their faces ever closer together. “Tell me you were jealous.”

Remus looked at her silently for a moment, as if at war with himself. But, lifting his left hand to her chin and running his thumb across her bottom lip, the hesitation vanished. His gaze flickered from her eyes to her lips and back again. Looking directly into her eyes he said, “I am very, _very_ jealous.”

Rose’s heart jumped into her throat at these words. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t known, but she’d never expected him to admit it. Rose let her eyes flicker shut, leaning forward ever so slightly. With a groan, Remus let his head fall into her shoulder, burying his face in the crook of her neck, both of his hands now fixed firmly back on the door. Rose blinked at the sudden contact, overwhelmed by how close he was, how hot her body was, how the very air felt like it was thrumming with excitement. It was unfair how quickly he could turn her annoyance into affection—anger into arousal.

And she was still angry with him, but now she was angry that he hadn’t kissed her, that she didn’t get to finally know what he tasted like, what his body felt like. Her whole being screamed in frustration, just wanting to be closer to him, to know what their skin would feel like pressed together. Rose let her hands snake around his chest, pulling herself close to his body. She breathed in the scent of him and could hear his own racing heart. He stiffened in surprise as she did this, but slowly let his own hands slide down to her waist, pulling her tightly against his own body. Rose let her eyes close as they embraced, basking in the feeling of warmth and safety and affection.

Too soon, he pulled away, holding her at arm’s length as if unsure whether to shove her away or pull her back in. Rose saw guilt flash across his face and watched the expression warily. When he didn’t meet her eyes again, she sighed in annoyance and snapped her fingers in his face, making him jump in surprise. Before he could open his mouth to protest, she cut him off.

“You just promised not to treat me like that again,” she said firmly, her hazel eyes icy, and the smile he gave her was a mix of exasperation and amusement. Releasing her, Lupin rubbed his face with his hands.

“I have… a lot of work to catch up on,” he told her. To his surprise, rather than leave, Rose walked over to the couch and sat down in the middle. She looked up at him expectantly.

“Well, let’s get started then.” She told him and the brusque command in her voice brought a smile to his face. She grinned back—warmth shining through her icy shell. Remus glanced at the door, thought of the far more appropriate seating arrangements in his office, then looked back at the seductive young woman currently leaning back against the couch, her long legs propped temptingly upon his coffee table. Merlin, it was so hard to say no to her.

“Fine, but you,” he flicked his finger at her and then to one of the couch ends, “Have to sit over there.”

Grinning, Rose slid over to the far side of the couch, and he deposited a pile of essays on his coffee table, being careful to sit as far away from her as possible. They graded together in comfortable silence, enjoying the heat of the fire and the warmth of each other’s company. He wasn’t sure how she did it, possibly with subtle shifts each time she had to dip her quill in an ink well or reach for a new roll of parchment, but it wasn’t long before she had snuck from her side of the couch to his. He stiffened when she leaned her head against his shoulder, curling her legs up on the couch while she continued to grade. Remus looked down at Rose, at her nose wrinkled in concentration, at the long red hair that spilled over her shoulders, at the pleasant curve of her body beneath her uniform, and he realized just how far gone he was. He couldn’t even muster the self-control to tell her to go back to her side of the couch. Instead, he shifted his arm to the back of the couch so she could better lean against him and saw the small victorious smile play across her face as he did so. ‘ _A Malfoy indeed_ ,’ he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos, comment, bookmark! They keep me motivated and writing!


	20. Chapter 20

_The old delight is with us but to find  
That all recurring joy is pain refined,  
Become a habit, and we struggle, caught.  
You lie upon my heart as on a nest,  
Folded in peace, for you can never know  
How crushed I am with having you at rest  
Heavy upon my life. I love you so  
You bind my freedom from its rightful quest.  
In mercy lift your drooping wings and go._

_\- Amy Lowell [A Fixed Idea]_

Rose landed her broom hard enough that she jarred her knees, heels digging deep into the muddy field. Ten points; they had won by a measly ten points against Ravenclaw, barely scraping a victory and only because Draco had managed to catch the snitch in the nick of time. Rose had been raised to believe that when you defeated your opponents, you should devastate them; when you won, they should know that they really never had a chance against you to begin with. As her teammates landed around her, she gave Draco a weak smile—he looked elated and she didn’t want to take his victory away from him. The scowl she gave Flint when he landed beside her was a completely different matter. He was grinning and waving up at the still cheering Slytherins in the stands as if he’d accomplished something great.

“What was that?” Rose bereted Flint as they walked off the field and past the stands towards the changing rooms. “Did you forget that as chasers we’re supposed to score points? You know, not just hand the other team free penalty shots for no reason?”

“The fuck is your problem, Malfoy?” Flint rounded on her, while the rest of their teammates disappeared into the tent, too focused on their victory to notice the squabbling pair. “We won, didn’t we?”

“ _Draco_ won.” Rose corrected. “We were a mess. We need to start practicing real tactics. There are ways to win other than injuring the other team.”

“When did you ever care about playing fair,” he spat at her, and Rose rolled her eyes at him.

“It’s not about playing fair; it’s about playing smart. If we constantly give the other team penalty shots, they get more points.” She sneered. “Or is that idea too big for your trollish brain to understand?”

“Just because you’re a Malfoy doesn’t mean you can talk to me like that,” Flint snarled, his eyes narrowing to slits. “I’m the Captain, and I will kick you off this team if you don’t shut your damn mouth.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Rose challenged crossing her arms, and Flint leered at her.

“Try me,” he said, his eyes glinting. Rose fumed silently for a moment, and his grin widened. “Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to let you make it up to me….”

Flint reached out and grabbed her right arm, dragging Rose closer to him, his eyes sliding slimily over her body. Rose felt her anger boiling over. Pulling back her left hand, she punched him hard in his face. She felt his nose break under the impact of the diamond ring, could feel her own knuckles screaming in pain when the ring cut into her hand, felt her lips draw back in a manic grin as Flint stumbled backwards, clutching his face in pain. When he lifted his head to look at her, his eyes were full of rage, and blood was gushing out from between his fingers.

“You bitch,” he spat, his voice thick and nasally from the broken nose. Rose took a step back, reaching for her wand as he began to advance, but, of course, she didn’t keep it on her during a match. She felt a jolt of fear course through her body, frozen in place as Flint lifted a bloody palm to backhand her hard across the face. Rose closed her eyes and flinched, ready for the blow to fall, but it never came.

“That’s enough,” came the dangerously cold voice of Severus Snape. Rose opened her eyes and saw that Snape had caught Flint’s arm in an iron grip, his black eyes flicking furiously from Flint to herself. “I came to offer my congratulations on your victory, and this is what I find.”

“Professor,” Rose began weakly.

“ _Silence_ ,” he hissed, and Rose’s mouth snapped shut. “Detention. Both of you. And fifty points will be taken from Slytherin house—

“But—"

“Yes, Flint, _fifty_. And if I ever catch you raising a hand to another student, I will make sure you regret coming to Hogwarts in the first place. Now… get out of my sight.” When Snape released his wrist, Flint practically ran back towards the castle, leaving droplets of blood in the grass as he went. Snape’s cold eyes turned to Rose, and she swallowed uncomfortably.

“Thank you,” she mumbled quietly, looking down at her shoes. Snape stepped forward and touched her face with his long cold fingers, turning it this way and that to inspect it. “He didn’t hit me.”

“Foolish girl, why would you begin a fight wandless and unprepared,” he berated her, dropping his hands from her face.

“He threatened to kick me off the team, and then when he made a pass at me… I—I lost my temper.”

“And have you forgotten that Slytherins do not simply _lose_ their tempers? We practice discipline and self-control and wait until the opportune moment. We are not brash attention seekers. James Potter was a thoughtless, reckless man too. I thought you had bigger ambitions than to be yanked around by whatever emotion so happens to be in your head at the time.” Rose physically flinched at his harsh words.

“I’m sorry, sir,” she struggled to get out.

“Perhaps you’ve grown lax from spending too much time around a certain _animal_.” He drawled, and Rose lifted her head and glared at him.

“Don’t call him that.”

“You presume to talk back to me after I have just—”

“Remus doesn’t have anything to do with this, leave him out of it.” She snapped, and Snape’s eyes flashed dangerously, a sneer distorting his face.

“Remus now, is it?” He sneered, and Rose barely managed to keep a blush from spreading across her face.

“Why do you care, _Severus_ —”

“Do not,” he nearly shouted, stepping close to her, “push me any further, Roselin.”

Fuming, Rose opened her mouth and then shut it again. He had been right about one thing, she needed to keep control of her temper. So she settled for glaring icily back up at him, maintaining a stony silence until he too got his temper under control and stepped away from her.

“Meet me in the potions classroom tomorrow afternoon, you can scrub out cauldrons without the use of magic.”

“Yes, sir.” Rose managed to get out through clenched teeth. When Snape had turned and stormed away, she glanced down at her left hand, examining the bruise already forming on her knuckles. Hissing in pain, Rose worked the engagement ring off her now swollen finger, examining the blood encrusted diamond. She’d have to thank Stefan for the particularly large rock that had done such great work on Flint’s face. She couldn’t help the self-satisfied smirk that pulled at her lips as she went to change. She knew Snape was right, the fight had been stupid, but hitting him had felt so good. Vanishing the blood off the ring with her wand, Rose pocketed it, her knuckles too swollen for her to risk putting it back on. Stuffing her hand in her pocket, Rose made her way back out onto the field catching sight of her three friends who were lingering by the stands.

“That was a shit-show of a match,” Sam told her. She was wearing Ravenclaw colors today and looked mildly irritated. Ava, who didn’t usually care about Quidditch but liked to support her team looked similarly miffed from watching an hour of the Slytherins using underhanded tactics.

“Yeah, it was garbage.” Rose agreed before Mari could open her mouth to defend the Slytherin team. Sam lifted her eyebrows in surprise as they started heading back up to the castle.

“Oh? Not going to stand up for your teammates this time?” She pressed.

“They’re not my teammates anymore, Flint just kicked me off.”

“No way!” The three girls chorused, stopping to look at Rose who kept her stony gaze fixed firmly ahead of her.

“Yeah, I told him his tactics were awful and that he was an idiot.”

“And he kicked you off for that?” Mari asked disbelievingly, Lucius Malfoy had purchased Nimbus 2001s for the entire team after all.

“Well, he threatened to. But since I broke his nose shortly after, I don’t think he’s going to want me playing.” There was a moment of silence before Sam burst out in raucous laughter and Mari and Ava exchanged concerned glances.

“You broke his nose?” Ava repeated tentatively, and Rose pulled her hand out of her pocket to show them her bruised knuckles.

“I think my engagement ring did actually, hurts like a bitch.” Rose informed them while Sam laughed harder.

“This is the proudest of you I have ever been,” Sam exclaimed, wiping tears from her eyes. “The number of times I’ve wanted to hit Flint in his ugly pompous face and you’re the one who actually does it!”

“Flint just let you go after that?” Mari asked skeptically, and Rose winced.

“Snape found us. He gave us both detention… and he took fifty points.”

“He what!?” Mari asked, looking sick to her stomach.

“I can’t believe he gave you detention, Rose, Snape adores you.” Sam said. “Merlin, you’ve been getting everyone mad at you lately, first Lupin, now Snape.”

Rose managed a half smile at Sam, continuing the trek up to the castle in silence. Mari was pouting in the back of their group, oscillating between a desire to support her friend and annoyance at Slytherin’s jeopardized chances for winning the championship and the house cup. Ava stepped closer to Rose, giving her a comforting side-hug as they walked.

“I’m sorry you’re off the team Rose, I know how much you love playing.” Rose let her head fall onto Ava’s shoulder as they walked, trying to maintain her icy façade and keep the tears that wanted to fall locked firmly away.

“Thanks, Ava.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos, comment, bookmark! Love you all, thanks for reading!


	21. Chapter 21

_The shine on her buckle took precedence in sun  
Her shine, I should say, could take me anywhere  
It feels right to be up this close in tight wind  
It feels right to notice all the shiny things about you  
About you there is nothing I wouldn’t want to know  
With you nothing is simple yet nothing is simpler_

\- Peter Gizzi [Lines Depicting Simple Happiness]

Rose pushed the mandrake leaf around in her mouth with her tongue, trying to find a comfortable spot for it to stay. Having just put it in at midnight the previous day, the leaf was still waxy and hard, and she was not used to the way it felt. She settled with pushing it up against her left cheek and sliding it as high up next to her gums as she could get it. McGonagall had said a sticking charm was a no go so she’d have to tough it out for another month. Flipping the page of her arithmancy book, she thought that the one good thing about no more Quidditch practices was that there was less of a chance for her to mess up this month.

Her transition off the team had been relatively quiet—Flint didn’t want anyone to know what had happened. Rose didn’t mind as she didn’t want Draco making a fuss about it to their father. When he’d asked about it, she’d said she needed the extra time for her N.E.W.T.s studies; a claim that was not entirely untrue. How Oliver Wood planned not to fail his exams while having Gryffindor’s practicing five nights a week, she had no idea.

“Will you stop that,” Mari snapped at her, and Rose looked up in confusion at her friend. The two were sprawled out on one of the couches in the Slytherin common room closest to the fire, stacks of homework piled around them. Both were in casual wear today; Rose was wearing comfy black joggers that Sam had suggested for her and a thick gray turtleneck. Now that the Black Lake had frozen over, the Slytherin common room tended to get very cold.

“Stop what?”

“You keep tapping your foot, it’s distracting,” Mari said, glancing pointedly at the leg Rose had draped off the edge of the couch.

“Sorry, I didn’t notice,” Rose apologized quickly, and the two returned to their studies. Now that Mari had pointed it out, Rose was quick to recognize when it started to happen again and, looking apologetically at Mari, she pulled her leg up so could sit cross legged on the couch. Shortly thereafter, Rose realized the was tapping her fingers rhythmically on the back cover of the book and froze. Glancing up at Mari who was already glaring at her she smiled sheepishly.

“What is with you today?” Mari asked in exasperation.

“I guess I’m just restless,” Rose said with a shrug. In truth, she knew why she was so jittery. It was the day after the full moon and her mind kept wandering to thoughts of Remus. She wondered if he was feeling alright, if he needed anything, if he was lonely. She kept telling herself that he’d told her he usually slept most of the day following a transformation, but as the hours had worn on into the afternoon, it had grown harder and harder not to go check on him.

“Well can you be restless somewhere else? If I don’t get this reading done for charms I’m screwed.”

“Fine,” Rose replied irritably, snapping her book shut and tucking it under an arm. “I’ll be back later.”

Rose stepped out of the exit through the bare stretch of wall that hid the entrance to the Slytherin common room and began wandering aimlessly through the castle. Though she hadn’t planned to go there, it wasn’t long before Rose found herself outside Lupin’s chambers. She hesitated for a moment, trying to decide whether or not to knock and disturb him or leave and continue her walk. To her surprise the door opened, and a very tired looking Remus Lupin stood in the doorway looking down at her with an amused smile.

“Rose,” he greeted.

“Professor,” she managed to return shyly. “I was on a walk and thought I’d drop by.”

Rose berated herself mentally for how stupid her excuse sounded. Remus’ grin widened in obvious amusement, and she huffed grumpily at him which only served to amuse him more. She tried not to stare at his chest—his shirt unbuttoned low enough for her to see the definition of muscle, his graying chest hair, and a few silvery scars. She also tried not to look lower, to not be too obvious about how good she thought the casual slacks he wore made him look, emphasizing his narrow hips and long legs.

“Did you want to come in? Or just keep standing outside my door?” Rose blushed furiously at this statement, wondering how long he’d known she was there. For a moment she considered leaving out of spite, but instead found herself walking through the door, his hand briefly touching the small of her back as he guided her into the room. To say it was hot inside would be an understatement, the fire had been stoked and was blazing in the hearth, and the thick turtleneck she had put on to stay warm in the dungeons now felt stifling. Though she could see the snow falling heavily outside his window none of the cold from the winter storm penetrated into the room.

“Tea?” Lupin asked, and Rose nodded gratefully, setting her arithmancy textbook on the coffee table, noticing the wine glass that sat there, a half-finished bottle beside it. She grinned at Lupin’s back.

“Is it that kind of a day?” She asked, pointing at the bottle when he turned around. He gave her an amused look, carrying their teacups over.

“Would you be surprised if I said yes?”

“Not going to offer me any?” She teased, settling herself in her usual spot on the couch.

“One of us needs to retain their inhibitions.”

“And that’s me today?” she grinned, and he shrugged noncommittally, sinking into the couch beside her. “You seem to be doing alright.”

“I only recently woke up,” he admitted, handing her a cup of peppermint tea while he put a few sugar cubes in his.

“Even so, you look much better than last time.”

“Some moons are worse than others,” he said with a shrug.

“Do you know why?” Rose asked with mild interest.

“There’s lots of speculation—the change of seasons, the distance of the moon to earth, star alignment, cloud cover, but no one is actually sure.” He told her, staring down at the cup in his hands. She could tell he wasn’t used to talking so openly with anyone about his condition. They sipped at their tea for a few minutes in silence. Rose tugged at her turtleneck uncomfortably—the tea was delicious but was making her even hotter.

“How do you live like this,” Rose gasped at last, setting down her cup and fanning herself with both hands. Remus blushed sheepishly.

“I’m always freezing after a transformation; I think it’s my body getting used to being at a lower body temperature again. Would you like—I mean, if you want—can… can I offer you a t-shirt?” Lupin managed to stammer out in a rush. Rose was so taken aback that she just stared at him for a moment, savoring the adorable look of uncertainty that played across on his face for a change.

“If it’s not too much trouble,” she said at last, a smile tugging at her lips. Lupin almost spilled his tea when he set it down hastily on the table and stood to go into his bedroom. Rose trailed after him, watching as he rummaged through one of his dresser drawers, finally pulling out a white undershirt and offering it to her. Her hand brushed against his as she accepted the shirt from him and walked quickly into the bathroom to change.

Pulling the thick turtleneck over her head, Rose closed her eyes at the relief of cool air hitting her skin. She quickly dabbed away the sweat from her forehead and the back of her neck and pulled the white t-shirt on instead, shivering at the touch of the fabric on her skin. The shirt was perfectly oversized and very soft from being well-worn. From the small hole starting at the hem, she could tell it was an older shirt he’d probably worn many times. The thought made the butterflies in her stomach start again. Glancing in the mirror, she grinned at her reflection, and tousled her long red curls, noting that the barest curve of her nipples could be seen through the fabric. ‘ _I look hot_ ,’ she decided, tucking the front of the shirt into the band of her joggers.

When she exited the bathroom, she was surprised to find that Lupin had remained in the bedroom and was leaning casually against the doorframe. Rose swallowed thickly as she walked towards him, admiring the casual ease with which his hair fell just into his eyes, and the way the stubble around his mouth gave him a look of effortless ruggedness. She saw the moment he looked at her, watched his eyes travel up and down her body, making her shiver not with cold but with desire. Saw his eyes darken as he stared at her in one of his own shirts, his gaze lingering on her hips and her breasts and her mouth. Lupin ran his hand through his hair, looking at her with a tortured expression.

“You look…” he began but stopped himself. By the burning in her cheeks, Rose was sure her face had turned the color of her hair. Dropping his hand slowly back to his side, he let the backs of his fingers run down the side of her arm. Rose felt goosebumps erupt across her skin. She wanted to reach out to him, run her own hands up his arms and across his broad shoulders and tangle her fingers in his hair. But Rose was also keenly aware of the mandrake leaf stuck to the side of her cheek and the fact that he had entrusted her to be the one with inhibitions today, and, if she was honest, she might have been enjoying watching him want her a little too much. Besides, she didn’t want him to kiss her because he’d been drinking, she wanted him to kiss her because he found her irresistible.

“Should we go back to our tea?” Rose asked with a coy smile while Remus reached up to twist one of her red curls in his fingers. “It will get cold.”

“Well… we wouldn’t want that,” he said slowly, not sounding particularly sincere. But they moved back into the living area nonetheless, returning to their seats on the couch.

“How are your studies going?” Lupin asked, glancing at her arithmancy textbook and eliciting a laugh from Rose.

“I’ve never been this stressed at Hogwarts,” Rose admitted, sipping her tea.

“I remember those days,” Remus said, a faraway look in his eyes. “N.E.W.T.s will be over and done with before you know it.”

“I hope so,” Rose sighed.

“Enjoy it while it lasts, you’ll miss it all when you leave, I know I did.” He was looking into the fire now, his eyes sad. Rose observed him for a long moment in silence.

“You graduated during the worst years of the war…?” She asked tentatively, and Remus nodded slowly.

“Those were… dark times. But even then, we were so young, we thought we were invincible. I don’t think any of us really thought we would die. Well…” his eyes darkened. “I suppose one of us did.”

“Sirius Black…” Rose said slowly, and Lupin nodded, his face stony. “I—I remember him, from before….”

Remus looked at her sharply, and Rose bit her lip, regretting that she’d said anything, but his face softened. “He was James’ best friend, I’m not surprised. The two of them were inseparable even after Lily and James were married.”

“He got Harry and I toy brooms for Christmas one year,” Rose mumbled, she hadn’t thought about that memory in a very long time. “I remember he and James teaching me to ride it, Lily was so nervous.”

Remus laughed at that and the laugh turned into a yawn that he tried to stifle.

“Do you have many memories from before?” He asked tentatively, his expression tired but interested.

“Only a handful. I try not to think about them too much. In the orphanage it was too painful and after... well, I made new memories,” Rose answered honestly, waiting to see if Remus would protest this statement. To her surprise he only nodded sleepily.

“I’m sorry,” said Rose, “I didn’t mean to bother you, I should let you rest.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Lupin said, and his fingertips brushed hers where their hands lay on the couch. “You can bother me any time.”

“I should probably go. I do need to study,” she said, her fingers entwining with his own.

“You can study here,” he suggested, his thumb running across the back of her hand.

“I don’t think I’d be able to.” Rose breathed, and Lupin grinned boyishly at her, stifling another yawn. “Besides, you look like you need to sleep.”

Reluctantly detangling her fingers from his, Rose stood from the couch and slipping her turtleneck back on over the shirt she was wearing. Lupin watched her do this in amusement, offering her the arithmancy textbook she’d brought.

“Am I ever getting that shirt back?” He asked while he walked her to the door, and she grinned at him.

“Nope.” Rose answered decisively, and Remus didn’t look the least bit upset about the loss. When she left, Remus was left alone with the rest of his bottle of wine, free to imagine exactly what Rose would look like wearing his t-shirt and nothing else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really just a fluff chapter, hope you enjoy. Kudos, comment, bookmark!


	22. Chapter 22

_“If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,  
If all men count with you, but none too much:  
If you can fill the unforgiving minute  
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,  
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,  
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!”_

\- Rudyard Kipling [If]

Rose coughed as she took a drag of the cigarette she held between two gloved fingers. It had been a while since she’d smoked, and her lungs were not particularly pleased with her. Tapping the ash off into the snow while she walked, Rose took another, much longer inhale and managed not to cough this time. The cheering that wafted across the crisp February morning was audible even at this distance along the edge of the forest. Today’s match was Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw and would determine who would face Slytherin in the championships. Normally Rose loved watching Quidditch matches and would love to be in the stands cheering for Ravenclaw to flatten Gryffindor. But when she’d woken up this morning to all the excitement, she’d just felt sick to her stomach at the idea of watching the teams play each other, knowing that, whatever the result, she would not be playing again this year. When she’d slipped out of the Great Hall just before everyone went down to the field, Sam had caught her eye sympathetically and slipped her a pack of cigarettes. Sam had introduced her to the muggle creation the previous year, and though Rose didn’t find them the most appealing, she appreciated the distraction they were providing her today.

Rose could see the stands in the distance and make out the small specks of students flying around on their brooms. Leaning against one of the pine trees, Rose tried not to feel too down on herself. She didn’t regret what she’d said to Flint, and she didn’t regret hitting him. She didn’t even regret the hours she’d spent scrubbing out cauldrons under Snape’s derisive gaze. But she did regret that she wouldn’t fly again this year. ‘ _It had to end eventually_ ,’ she told herself, ‘ _I wasn’t ever good enough to make a career of it_.’ And if she was honest, she wouldn’t have wanted to. But being cut off so suddenly from a sport she loved was much harder than ending the season with a championship trophy in hand.

Flicking the cigarette butt into the snow, Rose wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck and pulled another one out of the pack, placing it between her teeth and lighting it with a flick of her fingers. Grinning a self-satisfied smirk—she hadn’t been sure that would actually work—Rose took another inhale. Already, she could feel the pleasant nicotine buzz starting at the base of her skull.

She was halfway through the second cigarette when a fluffy orange cat walked out of the woods and rubbed up against her leg affectionately. Rose looked down at him in surprise. The cat looked up at her with beady yellow eyes and a very squashed face. She could feel him purring as he weaved in and out of her legs. Squatting down, Rose reached out her free hand and scratched the cat under its chin, and he rubbed his face into her palm.

“You’re an ugly little thing aren’t you,” Rose told the cat with a smile on her face. Almost as if he’d understood what she said, the cat turned grumpily away from her.

“I didn’t mean to offend you,” Rose called after it in amusement. The cat stopped near the denser foliage, turning to glance at her again, and Rose suddenly became aware that another much larger animal was there with him. Rose froze as a large black dog stepped forward out of the bushes. It was so massive that it towered over her in her crouched position.

“Come back you stupid cat,” she hissed at the orange furball while he approached the dog without a care in the world. She watched fearfully, waiting for the massive beast to snap the cat up. To her surprise the cat rubbed up against the dog’s legs much as he had done to her a few moments ago, and the dog didn’t seem to pay any attention to him—it’s eyes were trained on her.

Rose didn’t move a muscle as the dog walked up to her, gray eyes looking her over with clear intelligence. Had she accidentally invaded its territory? She didn’t know very much about dogs; everyone she knew had owls or cats for pets and the few dogs she’d encountered were roughly football sized. But the dog that loomed over her now was not one she could easily dropkick over a fence if it became hostile. As the dog approached, Rose looked at the ground and tried not to tremble. She thought she remembered hearing somewhere that you shouldn’t look dogs in the eye. It was very close now, she watched it sniff deeply at the cigarette still burning in her hand almost as if it enjoyed the scent. Her breath caught in her throat as it started to sniff the ring on her finger, at her green and black scarf, the head girl badge on her robes, and then began to sniff at her red hair and face. Rose closed her eyes tightly, her heart beating fast as it sniffed her cheek. She could feel its hot breath on her face, could smell the rank odor of it, could hear the snuffling noise it made as it sniffed her, and wondered if it was going to attack her.

 _Slorp_.

Rose fell back onto her butt in the snow in shock. The big hairy mutt had just licked her nose! Lifting a hand, she wiped the drool away in disgust and stared at the dog in disbelief. It was sitting in front of her now, wagging its tail, tongue lolling out of the side of its mouth. Rose stared right into its friendly gray eyes and raised her eyebrows at it.

“Gross,” she told the dog, wiping her face again, and jumped when it barked at her. It leaned over and sniffed at her cigarette again and Rose snorted at its behavior. “Stop that. That can’t be good for dogs.”

Pulling herself to her feet, Rose put the cigarette between her teeth and brushed off her robes, surprised when the dog walked over and leaned against her legs—it came up nearly to her hip. She stumbled slightly at its weight and reached down a hand to pat it hesitantly on the head. The dog’s tail wagged harder. She wondered if it belonged to someone in Hogsmeade, it seemed quite friendly.

“You need to tell your owner to give you a bath.” She told the dog as she patted it, her nose wrinkling at the smell that wafted up from its fur. The cat wandered back over to them lazily, sitting down on a patch of pine needles and rolling onto its back in contentment. “Has anyone ever told the two of you that you make an odd couple? …not that I’m one to talk, you should see the men in my life right now.”

Rose looked back at the Quidditch pitch when the sound of raucous cheering split the air. Three set of eyes stared as fans streamed out onto the pitch. Even from this distance, Rose could see their distinctive scarlet and gold colors. It looked as if Gryffindor had won the match. Well, good for Oliver and for Harry. Rose was torn between wanting to cheer for her brother to win against Gryffindor and for Gryffindor to annihilate and humiliate Flint in their final match. A dark grin slid across Rose’s face at the thought.

“Well, I’m off then,” Rose told the animals conversationally, dropping the second cigarette butt to the ground and crushing it under her heal. Fishing out a few crackers she’d stuffed in her pockets that morning at breakfast, she tossed them towards the dog who quickly devoured them. “Be careful you two, the forest isn’t safe if you go too deep inside.”

Rose was quite annoyed to find that in her absence, Draco had convinced Flint and his two cronies Crabbe and Goyle to dress up as dementors to try to throw the match in Ravenclaw’s favor. McGonagall had practically dragged them to her office, shouting at the four boys the entire way. When Draco had finally emerged an hour later, looking quite chastised, Rose’s irritation had not cooled at all.

“What kind of idiocy was that Draco,” Rose scolded irritably, her arms crossed over her chest. Draco glared at her in return.

“Why are you upset, are you suddenly on Gryffindor’s side now that you’ve walked out on us?” Draco practically snarled back at her. Rose’s lips drew back from her teeth in open hostility.

“Don’t be a prat, Draco.” Rose told him coldly, holding his gaze until he looked at the ground.

“I thought… it was a good idea. If it had worked, Gryffindor would have lost.” He said, and Rose sighed, running a hand through her hair.

“It wasn’t the idea that was the problem, it was how you went about it. Think about what father has taught us—if you’ve achieved your goal, but everyone knows you had a hand in it, you’ve still lost. Can’t you see the difference between what you did and what it would have been like had only Flint, Crabbe, and Goyle been caught? You should have been sitting comfortably in the stands, watching it all play out and far out of reach of trouble. Use your head, little brother, it’s all about the process not just the outcome.” Rose berated as they walked back to the Slytherin common room. She was particularly irritated because she knew she’d be receiving a letter from her father reprimanding her for not keeping a closer eye on him. This was exactly the kind of thing he had told her to keep Draco from doing at the start of the year.

To make an already long strange day longer and stranger, late that night all of the seventh year Slytherin girls were woken to the most unexpected visitor bursting into their room and waking them—Professor McGonagall. Rose sat up blearily in her blue cotton shorts and recently acquired t-shirt and blinked groggily at the unexpected intruder.

“Professor—”

“With me, Malfoy, quickly,” McGonagall cut her off, and Rose scrambled out of bed, throwing her robe around her shoulders. McGonagall grabbed her by the arm and the two moved quickly down the stairs, through the common room, and out of the stone wall. To Rose’s surprise, Severus Snape was standing there as well, wand drawn, and face contorted in concern and anger.

“Wand out, Miss Malfoy,” McGonagall told her sharply while the three walked, McGonagall in the front and Snape behind her. Rose quickly put the pieces together.

“Black got in again,” she said, and McGonagall nodded shortly. Rose swallowed thickly, her hand gripping her wand more tightly and her eyes darting from side to side as they walked. It wasn’t long before they arrived at the statue of a stone gargoyle that leaped aside when McGonagall told it ‘ _sugar mice_ ’.

“Go on up Malfoy, we’ll come and get you when it’s safe.” McGonagall encouraged. Rose quickly hurried up the spiral staircase to Dumbledore’s office. At the top of the stairs she saw a very tired Professor Lupin standing outside the door, his own wand in his hand. He relaxed when he saw her.

“Rose,” he breathed in relief, drawing her into his arms and holding her tightly. Rose let herself bask in the warmth of his embrace, laying her head against his chest and listening to the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat. She felt him rest his chin on the crown of her head, and she was amazed again at how well she seemed to fit into his arms—as if they were made for her to rest in. After a long moment, he pulled away and smiled wearily at her. “Go in, Harry’s already there.”

Reluctantly, Rose stepped away from Remus and pushed open the doors to Dumbledore’s office. It was empty except for the black-haired youth who was pacing agitatedly across the floor. Their eyes locked when she entered and she walked over to Dumbledore’s desk, falling into one of the chairs across from it.

“Have they found him yet?” Harry asked, and Rose raised her eyebrows at him in annoyance.

“Do you think I’d be here if they had?” She snapped. Harry glared at her and Rose sighed. “Look, I probably have even less of an idea of what’s going on right now than you do.”

They lapsed back into silence, and Rose watched Harry pace in growing agitation.

“Will you sit down.”

“Why do you care?”

“It’s annoying.”

“Too bad.”

“Brat.”

“Snake.”

The two glared at each other in distaste. Harry jumped when Rose snapped her fingers, and Wilpey materialized next to her with a loud crack. Rose shot him a superior look as Harry tried to regain his composure. Remus poked his head through the door at the noise, saw the house elf, shook his head in bemusement, and quietly closed it again.

“Wilpey, bring us some tea and biscuits,” Rose told the house elf who curtsied in the oversized pillowcase she was wearing before vanishing and reappearing with a tray of sweets, two teacups, and a kettle. Once the items had been laid out on Dumbledore’s desk, and the house elf had gone, Rose gestured to the seat beside her invitingly, and Harry reluctantly sat down and began nibbling on one of the biscuits.

“Why don’t you tell me what happened?” Rose invited, and, to her surprise, Harry began recounting the story of waking up to his friend Ron’s screams and the discovery that Black had broken into their room. After the story had been told they lapsed into an uneasy silence.

“He’s our godfather.” Harry said with obvious anger. Rose eyed him over the rim of her teacup. His eyes met hers and they narrowed in anger. “You knew?”

“Yes.”

“How could you not…” he began accusingly before trailing off. Rose lifted her eyebrows at him again.

“Not what? Tell you? We’re not exactly close. Besides, how was I supposed to know you didn’t know. It’s not my fault no one tells you anything.” Rose shrugged at him, and Harry glared at her in obvious irritation but didn’t push the point.

“How can you be so calm about it? He betrayed our parents.” Harry asked after a moment.

“So?”

“He was their friend,” Harry snapped at her, and Rose rolled her eyes at him.

“ _So?_ ” she repeated with more emphasis. “Everyone is capable of betrayal. They shouldn’t have been so trusting.”

Harry opened and closed his mouth in clear disbelief at her words. Pushing himself back from the desk he returned to pacing back and forth across the office while Rose did her best to ignore him. Many hours and cups of tea later the door to the office creaked open, and a tired looking Professor Dumbledore walked in. Harry stopped pacing, and Rose set down her teacup, standing respectfully.

“I’m sorry to inform you both that Black has once again eluded capture.” Dumbledore’s voice sounded particularly hoarse and tired tonight, and Rose’s heart sank at this pronouncement. “The castle has been thoroughly searched and I believe it is safe to have Professor Lupin escort the pair of you back to your common rooms.”

As Harry and Rose moved to exit the office, Dumbledore placed a hand on her shoulder, holding her back for a moment.

“Miss Malfoy, I think it would be best—and I believe Lucius would agree with me—for you to spend your remaining Hogsmeade weekends in the safety of the castle.” Rose immediately opened her mouth to protest but fell silent at the stern look in his normally sparkling blue eyes. Swallowing her disappointment, Rose nodded reluctantly, and Dumbledore patted her shoulder sympathetically.

After they dropped Harry at Gryffindor tower, she and Lupin walked back towards the dungeons in a tense silence. Rose glanced up at his face. He looked exhausted and pale and sad, and his gaze was faraway as if he was lost in deep thought. She realized that this night had probably been more stressful for him than it had been for her.

“How are you holding up?” She asked, kicking herself for not realizing how he was probably feeling earlier. She had been so focused on how this night was affecting her that she’d forgotten all about how close a friend Lupin had once considered Sirius Black. Lupin looked down at her with a tired smile and shrugged his shoulders.

“I’m alright, nothing for you to worry about.” He told her, turning his gaze back to the corridor ahead of them and assuming his faraway look once again. He paused when Rose slipped her hand into his and leaned her head against his shoulder. She interlaced their fingers, giving his hand an affectionate squeeze that he returned.

“It’s alright to not be alright, you know,” Rose told him. Remus didn’t answer, but he did grip her hand tighter—so tightly she could feel his pulse beating in time with her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I know we went a bit off script with this chapter, but it always kind of bugged me in the book when they just leave Harry in the Gryffindor common room the second time Black breaks in (a room he's just shown he can get into) and go search the rest of the castle. So this is my personal adjustment to make things a bit more interesting. Anyways, hope you enjoyed! Kudos, comment, bookmark!


	23. Chapter 23

_Drink to me only with thine eyes  
And I will pledge with mine.  
Or leave a kiss but in the cup  
And I’ll not look for wine._

_The thirst that from the soul doth rise  
Doth ask a drink divine;  
But might I of Jove’s nectar sup,  
I would not change for thine._

_I sent thee late a rosy wreath,  
Not so much hon’ring thee  
As giving it a hope that there  
It could not withered be;_

_But thou thereon did’st only breathe,  
And sent’st it back to me,  
Since when it grows and smells, I swear  
Not of itself, but thee._

\- Ben Jonson [To Celia]

The next couple of weeks were some of the most frustrating Rose had experienced in her time at Hogwarts. It had quickly gotten around to the other Slytherin’s and soon to the rest of the school that Rose Malfoy had been taken by teachers on the night of the Sirius Black’s break-in. As Rose’s adoption to the Malfoy family was well known—it was hard to ignore given their obvious physical differences, it didn’t take long for students to connect her to the Potters after hearing that Harry had also been removed from the Gryffindor common room that same night. Rose, who was used to receiving attention from other students for her head girl status and her prestige as a Malfoy, now felt like she was drowning in it. Everywhere she went, eyes followed her, and she could frequently hear whispers of “Potter” and “sister”. She was living out one of her worst fears. Had a boggart appeared before her, she was not sure it could have showed her anything scarier than the displaced feeling she had each time her fellow Slytherins sneered at her.

Even Mari, her oldest friend who had long known her true parentage, had put some distance between them. Rose was not particularly surprised by this and expected Mari would return to normal once the commotion over Rose’s heritage died down, but it still hurt. Rose couldn’t imagine how much worse it would have been without Sam and Ava. Initially shocked by the news, the two had quickly rallied and been more supportive of her than Rose thought they had any reason to be. She had assumed they’d be angry with her for not telling them, but if they were the two gave no sign of it.

This particular Saturday morning, Rose and Ava were relaxing in the prefect’s bathroom, doing each other’s makeup and hair in preparation for Ava and Sam’s date in Hogsmeade. Rose had conjured some poufy chairs for them to lounge in and was currently applying some subtly shimmery eyeshadow around Ava’s dark eyes. Ava, who was, in truth, a much better make-up artist than Rose, was normally the one in charge of applying make-up, but having opted for a natural sophisticated look for this date had trusted Rose not to muck it up too badly.

“I can’t believe the two of you have been together for a year already,” Rose mused as she worked to blend out the harsh line where the eyeshadow stopped. “I still remember the days when you were completely oblivious to Sam’s flirting.”

“It’s hard for me to believe too,” Ava smiled happily. “And I wasn’t oblivious, Sam just flirted with everyone.”

“I suppose,” Rose agreed. “But she never really meant it with anyone else.”

“Do you remember our fifth year when all she ever talked about was Oliver Wood, how was I supposed to know she wasn’t into him anymore?” Ava continued, a slight blush rising to her lightly rouged cheeks.

“I think I’m done,” Rose said, leaning back, brush in hand. Ava lifted a hand mirror and inspected the work carefully.

“That looks great, Rose!” she complimented sincerely. Rose held the mirror for her while Ava applied her eyeliner, mascara, and a peach lipstick.

“You look beautiful,” Rose told her, and she meant it. Ava had curled her now chin length brown hair and the curly bob brought both a playfulness and sophistication to her look. The pale pink sweater dress she wore was festive and frumpy, fitting Ava’s eclectic style.

“I wish you could come with us,” Ava told Rose sincerely, and she shrugged.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about me, have fun on your date. It’s only Valentine’s Day once a year after all.”

Rose was able to hold the smile on her face until the two parted ways. As soon as Ava turned the corner, Rose’s grin dropped, and she began to feel the cloak of melancholy that hung about her. Truthfully, she was feeling lonely. Stefan had sent her a beautiful necklace of teardrop pearls and she had sent him diamond cufflinks, but neither really knew each other well enough yet to send personal gifts. Additionally, the present only served to remind her that even though it was a far better scenario than she’d initially feared, she was still engaged to someone she didn’t love and would never love romantically. And Valentine’s Day was bringing back other memories. Memories of the previous year spent in the bed of a certain Potion’s Master as he planted teasing kisses along her neck and collarbone, over the swell of her breasts, down her abdomen—

Rose shook her head to clear it of the memories. They were certainly not helping her feelings of loneliness. As she wandered the corridors, Rose came to a large window that looked out over the Black Lake. Leaning against the railing, she looked out at the cold winter landscape, shivering as she watched the wind whip snowflakes back and forth. She hated winter. It was so gray and cold and depressing. Her heart yearned for spring.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it.” A voice came from behind her, and Rose looked up to see Remus Lupin lean against the railing at her side, his blue eyes bright as he smiled at her.

“I was actually just thinking about how gray and dead everything looked,” Rose admitted with a small smile.

“Ah, well that’s all a matter of your perspective,” Lupin told her matter-of-factly.

“What do you see when you look at it?” She asked, and Remus stared out the window for a long moment before answering.

“Everything is just resting, gathering energy again before spring comes; it’s not dead only sleeping.” He smiled at the winter scene, and Rose couldn’t help the surge of affection she felt for him.

“Well I hope it all wakes up soon,” she joked, and Lupin chuckled softly.

“No Hogsmeade today?” he inquired, and Rose shook her head.

“Dumbledore and father both want me to stay in the castle with Black so close.”

“Very wise of them.” Lupin said neutrally.

“I suppose,” Rose agreed with a sigh.

“Do you like chess?” he asked suddenly, straightening up and looking at her. “I have a new set in my office that Minerva gave me for Christmas if you’d like to play.”

Rose grinned at him and nodded, her heart speeding up in her chest. Maybe this Valentine’s Day wouldn’t be so lonely after all.

Sitting cross legged on the floor in front of the coffee table, her tie loosened and blouse unbuttoned slightly, Rose tapped her chin in concentration while she carefully thought over her next move. Two butterbeers sat open on the table beside the ornate board. Sitting on the ground across from her, Remus had unbuttoned his own shirt to a comfortable level—his sleeves rolled up to his elbows revealing strong forearms. When Remus had offered her the pick of colors, she had chosen white—never give up an advantage after all, but now she wished she’d chosen black so she’d had a chance to get a feel for how he played before making her moves. Rose was struggling to discern what his strategy was, and by the self-satisfied smirk on his face, Remus knew it.

“Tell me what you were like as a student at Hogwarts,” Rose said, before adding to her chessman, “Bishop to b5.”

“You wouldn’t be trying to distract me now would you, Roselin,” Remus asked good-naturedly and Rose smiled innocently, her stomach flipping pleasantly as he used her full name. _Merlin_ , it was unfair how sexy his voice was.

“Of course not, that would be cheating. I just want to know more about you. I’m picturing a very shy, bookish boy… a prefect who followed all the rules,” Rose replied, a grin tugging at the corner of her lips. Remus chuckled and moved his knight to her bishop where it impaled the small figurine on its lance. She pouted slightly.

“I was a prefect, but I don’t know about the rest of that,” Remus smiled back at her, taking a sip of his butterbeer. “James, Sirius, Peter, and I, we fed off each other. Always trying to one up one another, show the others that we were the cleverest, the bravest, or the most reckless. A real group of rulebreakers.”

“Really?” Rose asked with interest, instructing her rook to take his knight. She let her eyes slide down the curve of his neck to his broad shoulders and the attractive taper of his torso. “A rulebreaker, huh?”

“Your mo—Lily was a good influence on us once she and James started dating. We were prefects together in our fifth year, she was always standing up to our group in a way I’m sure Dumbledore had hoped I would, but I was too much of a coward.”

“You’re not a coward,” Rose told him as he took her rook with his queen. Remus let out a laugh that tinged of bitterness. Rose looked at him with narrowed eyes as he took another gulp of butterbeer. Was there something he wasn’t telling her? But his mood quickly passed, and he leveled clear blue eyes on her.

“If I wasn’t a coward, I would have stopped us from getting this far,” he said, and Rose tilted her head at him.

“Stopped what?” She asked neutrally, deciding to play dumb. The amused smile he shot her way told her that wasn’t going to work, so she decided on her next strategy. “We haven’t done anything inappropriate.”

“Rose, what we’re doing right now is inappropriate,” he said, his eyes looking over her unbuttoned blouse, and the skirt that was hiked too high up her creamy thighs.

“So are you a coward for not stopping us,” Rose mused, looking over the board before instructing her rook to move across it. “Or a coward for not taking it any farther? Check.”

Remus and Rose stared across the chessboard at one another in silence, blue eyes locked with hazel ones. She huffed when he smiled at her and shrugged, leaning back on one arm.

“Take your pick, I suppose. Queen to E6.”

“You can be so… aggravating.” Rose told him, and he laughed. The laugh caught in his throat when Rose leaned forward and crawled around the coffee table towards him, a predatory smile on her face. Remus began to scoot away but found himself trapped against the leg of the couch. Rose scooted her way between his legs and leaned in towards his face, pressing her body into his chest.

“Rose,” he protested, grasping her wrists with his hands as they ran up his chest. Tilting her head at him, a lock of long red hair falling into her face, Rose looked at him inquiringly.

“How can you be a coward, Professor, aren’t you supposed to be a Gryffindor? I really want to know which kind of brave you’ll be.”

“Rose…” he breathed again, his hands tightening on her wrists, but not to push her away. Slowly, Remus pulled her closer to him, letting one arm loop around her waist. Rose pressed her body against his, their faces inching closer and closer together.

“Lupin! I want a word.”

Severus Snape’s voice echoed through the room and Rose and Lupin leaped apart from one another as if stung. Smacking into the coffee table as she jumped backwards, Rose knocked the pieces of their chess game over. Both Lupin and Rose looked around the room in panic before realizing Snape’s voice had come from the fireplace. Standing quickly, Lupin buttoned his shirt up all the way, straightened his tie, and brushed the wrinkles out of his shirt. Giving her a guilty smile, he stepped towards the fireplace.

“I’ll be right back,” he told her, looking her over before throwing a pinch of flu powder into the fire and disappearing to Snape’s office. Rose leaned back against the leg of the couch trying to get control of her breathing. For a moment she had been so sure Snape had seen them; had caught the two in the middle of a very inappropriate act. After a few minutes, her breathing began to calm, and she glanced over to the scattered pieces of the chessboard. It looked like their game was a draw.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos, comment, bookmark! For those who haven't read the book 500 times, this is the weekend Harry gets caught by Snape for sneaking to Hogsmeade and Snape calls Lupin to his office to check out the Marauder's Map.


	24. Chapter 24

_"Whoso list to hunt, I know where is an hind,  
But as for me, hélas, I may no more.  
The vain travail hath wearied me so sore,  
I am of them that farthest cometh behind.  
Yet may I by no means my wearied mind  
Draw from the deer, but as she fleeth afore  
Fainting I follow. I leave off therefore,  
Since in a net I seek to hold the wind.  
Who list her hunt, I put him out of doubt,  
As well as I may spend his time in vain.  
And graven with diamonds in letters plain  
There is written, her fair neck round about:  
Noli me tangere, for Caesar’s I am,  
And wild for to hold, though I seem tame.”_

\- Sir Thomas Wyatt [Whoso List to Hunt]

Sitting alone in Lupin’s chambers, it didn’t take long for feelings of worry and doubt to start creeping in on her. Hearing Severus’ voice through the fireplace had been like someone dousing her with a bucket of ice water.

 _What if he had stuck his head in? What if he had seen us?'_ she thought, panic rising in her throat.

Rose didn’t have to try very hard to put together a realistic picture of what would happen. Snape would have been beyond furious, and she had no doubt that he wouldn't just inform the headmaster quietly. He would make it a public spectacle. She was sure that he'd expose Lupin’s condition as a werewolf, and if he wasn’t sacked for that, he certainly would be for getting romantically involved with one of his students. And Rose knew that wouldn’t be the end of it. There was no reality in which Lucius wouldn’t go after Remus with the full might of the law and the Malfoy name behind him. If that happened it was very possible that Lupin would wind up with an Azkaban sentence—for how long, Rose wasn't sure. She supposed it depended on which judge was assigned to the case but with the prejudice against werewolves it could be a very long time.

And if the Dolohov’s found out they would certainly force Stefan to break off the engagement if he didn’t do it himself. Stefan cared deeply about how others perceived him. Would he even want to be publicly engaged to someone who was exposed as being involved with a werewolf? When he’d said they might both discreetly find love with other people, Rose was sure that a public scandal featuring Remus Lupin was not what he’d had in mind. As Rose thought about his parents, she wondered how her own family would react if they found out. She had always played the part of the perfect daughter—and she had enjoyed it, soaking in praise from her parents and their guests. She had never done anything to make them angry other than sleeping with a certain family friend. But Rose could even see them moving past that eventually. But Lupin? She wasn’t sure Lucius or Narcissa would ever forgive her for that.

With trembling fingers, Rose began to button her blouse back up to the collar and adjust her tie, smoothing her skirt down to a more appropriate length. Before now, chasing after Remus Lupin had seemed like a fun challenge. She loved the torn look in his eyes and the idea of tempting him past the boundaries he’d repeatedly established between them had seemed such an enjoyable task. The consequences of what might happen should she succeed and it be discovered had never really hit her until this moment.

Picking up the chessboard, Rose began to move it out onto the desk in Lupin’s office and reassemble the pieces there. ‘ _Severus was right_ ,’ she thought, ‘ _I have become reckless_.’ She had always been a person to think through the consequences of her actions. Hadn’t she recently berated Draco for his own lack of subtlety? Although, she supposed in matters of love she had shown herself to be reckless before.

 _‘Love?_ ’

Rose paused in her placement of the pieces on the board, her fingers lingering on the smooth carved marble of the queen. She shook her head to clear it of the word. Rose didn’t know why it had entered her thoughts to begin with. This wasn’t a matter of love. Attraction, lust, desire, even passion, certainly. But not love. She _was_ not— _could_ not be in love with Remus Lupin. Panic began to well up in her chest, making her stomach churn, and Rose would have fled from the room had the door to the office not opened at that precise moment.

“You can play white this round,” Rose said, putting on her best attempt at a winning smile as Lupin walked back in. He seemed relieved to find her sitting at the desk—clearly he’d been thinking over some of the consequences that would occur had they been caught as well. When he sat down across from her, Lupin pulled a folded piece of parchment out of his pocket and placed it in one of the drawers in his desk.

“What is that?” Rose asked, more for something to say to break the silence than out of actual curiosity. Lupin leaned back casually in his chair and smiled at her.

“Just some spare parchment,” he said, and she would have believed him in any other situation. But he was too calm now, too at ease given what had recently occurred between them. As he ordered one of his pawns out, Rose watched him with slightly narrowed eyes.

‘ _He’s lying_ ,’ she thought. And then, ‘ _he’s a good liar_.’

For some reason the idea that Lupin, who had always seemed so genuine and kind, was also good at lying disturbed her. It disturbed her perhaps because she had always taken the things he told her at face value and maybe, even more disturbing, because of how much she trusted him. But as she thought about it, about how Remus had been lying to everyone about being a werewolf for his whole life, she realized that of course he had to be a good liar. She wondered if he had lied to her many times before, and she simply hadn’t noticed. Rose quickly directed her knight out from behind her pawns even though she knew it was unlikely to accomplish much good this early in the game.

“What did Sev—Professor Snape want?” Rose asked, cursing herself internally at the slip up. She was feeling quite frazzled from the previous hour.

“There was a bit of a situation concerning Harry.” He said with a shrug. “That’s the second time you’ve almost called Professor Snape by his first name around me.”

“Severus is a close family friend. Sometimes I forget to use his title at school.” Rose answered casually, resting her chin on her hand and trying to look bored. “Your turn Professor.”

“Is that the story you’re going to stick with?” he asked skeptically, sending out another pawn. He clearly didn't believe her. The fact that he had called her bluff when she hadn't called his irritated her.

“Is that really just a spare bit of parchment?” She retorted, ordering her knight to recklessly take his second pawn. The two locked eyes for a long moment before Remus dropped her gaze and returned to the chess game, his lips pressed together tightly. She was glad she'd managed to annoy him in return. How dare he expect her honesty without giving his—not that she would have told him the truth anyways.

It wasn’t long before he had her in check mate, Rose had recklessly gone after his pieces this game rather than focusing on any specific strategy. She had managed to capture most of his key pieces before losing her own, but he’d quickly earned back the ones he needed to put her in checkmate with his remaining pawns. Stretching her hands up towards the ceiling and slightly behind her, Rose closed her eyes and enjoyed the pops issuing from her spine. When she opened her eyes, she caught Remus staring and smirked at him. He just shrugged, glancing away sheepishly.

“Should I send for some tea? Coffee?” He asked. Rose thought over his question for a long moment. She should just leave. There was no point in staying. Pursuing him was too dangerous for both of them. It would be far kinder to go back to the Slytherin common room and spend the rest of her Valentine’s Day alone. It would be painful, but surely not any more painful than sitting across the desk from him, unable to touch him or kiss him or feel his hands on her body.

“Tea sounds lovely,” she said instead with a smile, her stomach tightening at the warmth in his blue eyes when he looked at her. She finally understood what he'd meant earlier about being a coward—too scared to end things, too scared to take them further.

' _Well, Remus, it seems we'll be cowards together._ '

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the shorter chapter. Wanted to wrap some things up from the last one but didn't want it to drag it out just to meet a certain length. Sorry we can't stay in RosexRemus paradise forever. Kudos, comment, bookmark!


	25. Chapter 25

_"I go down to the edge of the sea.  
_ _How everything shines in the morning light…  
…It’s like a schoolhouse  
of little words,  
thousands of words.  
First you figure out what each one means by itself,  
the jingle, the periwinkle, the scallop  
full of moonlight.  
Then you begin, slowly, to read the whole story.”_

\- Mary Oliver [Breakage]

‘ _Come on moon_ ,’ Rose thought as she watched the clouds roll lazily across the sky. She tapped her foot against the ground nervously, trying to get comfortable in one of the wooden chairs they’d borrowed from the astronomy classroom to sit outside on the top of the tower. Winter in Scotland was not the best time of year to try for the animagus transformation with the near constant cloud cover. She just needed a couple minutes of unobstructed moonlight from the full moon—enough time to get the mandrake leaf from her mouth into the crystal phial in her hand and add a strand of her hair. But if she timed it wrong and the clouds moved across the moon before she’d done so Rose would have to completely restart with a new leaf. If that happened, Rose was pretty sure she’d lose her goddamn mind.

A rapid scratching of a quill on parchment made Rose wince. She glanced over at McGonagall to see her crossing out a large section of her essay on lycanthropy. McGonagall was illuminated by the crackling of blue flames from a large fire she had conjured to keep them warm on the cold winter night. Wrapped snuggly in a tartan cloak and witch’s hat, she looked completely unaffected by the cold breeze that would whip up around them from time to time. McGonagall set her quill in an inkwell that floated by her right hand and lifted a similarly levitating teacup off its saucer to take a sip of the steaming drink. Rose thought that she’d rarely seen McGonagall look so badass and was amazed once again at how much she admired the woman.

“You need to remember that you are writing an academic journal,” McGonagall told her with a pointed look. “Think concisely. Every word should serve a purpose.”

“Yes, Professor.”

“Your basic premise and argument are good ones, most of your revisions will be merely cosmetic,” she said and offered Rose a rare smile. Rose felt the warm rush of pride and elation spread through her body at the praise and grinned broadly.

The two looked up when moonlight began to peak through the clouds. McGonagall vanished the blue flames—the lack of warmth causing Rose to shiver in the sudden dark. As her eyes adjusted, she could tell that there seemed to be a break happening in the cloud bank as the wind pushed the higher clouds across the sky faster than the lower ones. She realized she was holding her breath as she stared into the sky; so transfixed by the moving clouds across the face of the moon that even the nervous tapping of her foot had stopped.

“Now, Miss Malfoy,” McGonagall urged when the last wisps of cloud were pushed away from the moon’s silvery edges.

Rose didn’t need to be told twice, she was already uncorking the phial and spitting the mandrake leaf inside. Plucking a hair, Rose barely noticed the pinch of pain as she stuffed the orangey strand into the phial and recorked it, letting it sit on her open palm and absorb the moonlight until the clouds once again covered its surface. Rose’s heart was beating so fast she thought she might faint, and she glanced up at McGonagall nervously.

“Did I…?” Rose asked, and McGonagall nodded at her in approval. Rose whooped in celebration, looking down at the seemingly mundane crystal phial in her hand with wonder.

“Now for the hard part,” McGonagall’s voice cut through the celebration, and Rose looked up at her, eyebrows knitted together in concern.

“That wasn’t the hard part?” She asked hopefully. McGonagall pursed her lips but looked at Rose with an amused gleam in her eyes.

The hard part, which Rose discovered only a handful of hours later when she and McGonagall met a sleepy looking Hagrid outside of his hut, was that for the next seven days Rose would have to collect dew in a silver teaspoon to add to the phial. Of course, this couldn’t be just any old dew. It had to be dew that had not been touched by sunlight or human feet. Rose wondered again at the crazy witch or wizard who had figured out the animagus process to begin with. Fortunately, McGonagall had known of a place where Rose could collect said dew—it was the same place Hogwarts students who attempted the transformation had been using for years.

“Good morning Hagrid,” McGonagall greeted the still yawning man.

“Mornin’ Profess’r McGonagall, mornin’ Rose,” he said, hefting the large crossbow over his shoulder. Rose nodded to him a bit shyly. She rarely interacted with the larger than life man, and he made her a bit nervous. Rose still wasn’t sure that they needed Hagrid on their trip through the Forbidden Forest, but the crossbow he was carrying was comforting as they stepped beneath the dark branches that blotted out even the waning light of the setting moon. Flicking her wand, Rose ignited the tip with a small ball of light, illuminating her immediate surroundings.

“Holy shit,” Rose muttered under her breath when she saw the number of glowing eyes that flickered her direction before disappearing into the underbrush. She slunk closer to Hagrid.

“Language Miss Malfoy,” McGonagall said sternly, and Rose sent an exasperated look her direction.

“Sorry Professor.”

“Nothin’ ta worry ‘bout in ‘ere, I’ll keep yeh safe,” Hagrid assured her with a large smile that she tentatively returned.

“How far in are we going?”

“Only a few miles,” Hagrid responded conversationally. “Migh’ take us three quarters o’ an hour.”

When they finally arrived, Rose was just able to discern the branches of the trees against a now graying eastern sky. Taking her arm, McGonagall practically frog-marched her up to a small hill. Lifting her hand, she pluck at the air and suddenly Rose could discern a small dark opening to a cave.

“Hurry,” McGonagall instructed, glancing up at the lightening sky. The two stepped into the cave, McGonagall in the lead with her wand still illuminated. The pair had to crouch as they walked along the low-ceilinged tunnel, careful to keep an eye out for stalactites.

“I remember coming here with Albus,” McGonagall reminisced nostalgically. After they had gone around a slight bend in the tunnel, she gestured to a glowing line on the cave floor. “Be sure not to cross this.”

Rose knelt down by the line, taking the offered silver teaspoon from McGonagall. The cave floor was covered in a thin layer of morning frost, and she was able to easily scrape enough crystals off the stone floor to fill the small teaspoon. She could only imagine how much harder this would have been had the morning dew been liquid instead. After a quick glance at McGonagall who nodded to her, Rose carefully opening the lid to the phial and emptied the teaspoon’s worth of dew inside. After closing it, Rose realized she’d been holding her breath and exhaled shakily.

“Well done, Miss Malfoy.” McGonagall told her, offering Rose a small black box. “Keep the phial in here when not adding dew. It must stay out of sunlight or the potion will be ruined.”

Rose nodded in understanding, putting the phial into the velvet lined interior, snapping the lid shut and locking the small clasp on the front. Following McGonagall out, Rose began to fully feel the exhaustion from not sleeping the night before. ‘ _Only six more days_ ,’ she told herself firmly. Upon exiting the cave, McGonagall instructed her on how to correctly dismantle and reinstate the wards that guarded the small cave.

For the next week, Rose met Hagrid in the Great Hall at four thirty in the morning and the two walked out to the cave together. Despite the cold and the dark, she found the daily walks unexpectedly refreshing. It was nice to be out of the castle, away from the staring eyes of the other students, and completely invested in a task that excited her. She couldn’t deny that the now very public fact that she was pursuing the animagus transformation was padding her ego. While it had just been the mandrake leaf, only her close friends had known, but now that she was getting up every day and leaving the Slytherin common room out of hours, the rest of her house quickly found out. She could see the grudging respect returning to many who had started shunning her for being a Potter and the excitement that the next animagus this century might come from Slytherin. It was enough of a change in attitude that Mari had even started associating with her again.

On the final day, as Rose put the final teaspoon of dew into the phial and tucked it back into the black box, she felt a rush of excitement and satisfaction sweep over her. As she exited the cave, she grinned up at Hagrid with a look of victory. She knew there were still many steps to go in this process, including returning to McGonagall and adding the death’s-head hawk moth chrysalis to the phial later that day, but she couldn’t help feeling like she was nearly done.

“Yer parents would be so proud o’ yeh Rose,” Hagrid told her as they began the long hike back. It took Rose a moment to realize that he was not talking about Lucius and Narcissa.

“Thanks, Hagrid.” Rose answered with a tight smile after reminding herself that he’d woken up at four in the morning to help her all week, and she could do better than act like a bitch now.

“I—I never told yeh, I looked for yeh for so long that nigh’. We though’ yeh were dead too jus’ like Lily an’ James,” Hagrid’s eyes were full of tears and he blew his nose noisily into a dirty polka dot handkerchief. “An then when Profess’r Snape found yeh ‘neath all tha’ rubble, an Dumbledore told us yeh had ta go ta tha’ orphanage—”

“Professor Dumbledore’s the one who sent me to the orphanage?” Rose cut him off in surprise. For some reason she had always pictured a panicked Severus Snape taking her to the first place he could think of. She’d forgiven him since he’d been the one to bring the Malfoys to her two years later, but her time at Wool Orphanage had been some of the worst years of her life. Hagrid looked at her uncomfortably, apparently having been under the impression that she’d known this bit of information. Rose smiled at him encouragingly, trying to keep her growing anger from showing on her face.

“Why didn’t Professor Dumbledore send me to live with my aunt and uncle?” She asked conversationally. Not that she wished she’d been raised by muggles, but the question begged asking.

“Well… the Dursleys made it clear they’d only take one o’ yeh, an’ Dumbledore, he said, it had ta be Harry—never ‘splained why, mind. He said the orphanage was the next best place fer keepin’ yeh safe. I ain’t never seen Dumbledore so mad as when he found out Snape ‘ad told the Malfoys ‘bout yeh. Ta think o’ it, Roselin Potter raised by Death Eaters.”

“Those are my parents you’re talking about,” Rose said firmly, and Hagrid went silent instantly. Clearly concerned he’d offended her, Hagrid didn’t start up another conversation. The silence suited Rose just fine. Her mind was spinning as she digested the newly acquired information. Dumbledore had been the one to send her to Wool’s rather than try to find her a family. He had been the one to abandon her there. Not only that, but Snape had evidently been acting against Dumbledore’s orders when he’d told the Malfoys about her. Had Dumbledore been worried they would hurt her because they’d served the Dark Lord? Well, he’d been wrong, they’d treated her far better than anyone at that orphanage ever had.

Rose emerged from her dark thoughts as they began nearing the edge of the forest and the sky had lightened enough that she could now see without the use of her wand though the sun still would not rise for nearly another hour. In the gray morning she could easily see when an orange cat slunk out of the trees and across the path followed quickly by a black dog who paused to look at them when it noticed their presence. Rose blinked in surprise when it trotted up to her, tail wagging.

“Well, hello again,” Rose said, reaching out and patting the great hairy thing on its head. She drew her hand back quickly when it licked her fingers, wiping the slobber on the sleeve of her robe. The orange cat peaked its head out from the brush and meowed at them. “And what are you two plotting this morning?”

“Quite the pair ain’t they?” Hagrid said with a smile. “Been comin’ roun’ beggin’ fer scraps from time ta time.”

“Do you know who he belongs to?” Rose asked, stumbling as the dog leaned against her legs affectionately; she grasped a handful of its fur to steady herself.

“’magine he’s someone’s in the village, I’ve seen him up tha’ way goin’ ta the Hog’s Head.” Hagrid shrugged.

Rose was distracted when the dog growled and stepped back from her, starting to shake. Its ears flattening against its head and tail tucked slightly. Suddenly she felt an icy cold creeping over her body; her throat constricting in fear. Looking up, Rose saw a trio of dementors floating across the grounds towards them. She wrapped her fingers around her wand, trying not to shake. She could almost hear matron shouting at her, could almost feel the cane as it whipped down and cut into the flesh of her thighs and buttocks.

“Get out o’ here yeh monsters, ain’t neither o’ us Sirius Black,” Hagrid said in a shaky voice, his face pale and sweating as he lifted his crossbow and pointed it towards them. The black dog was shaking so badly it sank to the ground, curling up in fear. Stepping forward, Rose lifted her wand and pointed it at the dementors.

“Expecto Patronum,” she said clearly, thinking of the day Lucius and Narcissa had taken her home—the day she’d first been given a family. A silvery doe erupted from the end of her wand and ran at the dementors, chasing the three away easily. It turned back to her, and Rose felt safe and protected in the warm light it gave off. With a flick of her wand, she dismissed the patronus. Hagrid lowered his crossbow with a shaky smile. When she glanced to where the dog had been crouched, she saw that he and the cat had both gone. Rose couldn’t blame them; she would have run off too had she been in their position.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos, comment, bookmark!


	26. Chapter 26

_“You might not have been my first love,  
but you were the love that made  
all the other loves  
irrelevant”_

\- Rupi Kaur

The month of March seemed to fly by. The grounds began to thaw, and pelting rain took the place of snow. Rose waited eagerly for the lightning storm that would indicate the time she could try the animagus transformation. Until then, every sunrise and sunset she had to place her wand tip at her heart and recite the words “ _amato animo animato animagus_ ”. McGonagall had given her a small golden locket that chimed softly and pulsed with a warm light at the time of each sunrise and sunset. When the lightning storm eventually came the locket was supposed to shake violently and let out a piercing shriek. At that signal, she’d been told to meet McGonagall immediately in her office to begin the transformation process.

Additionally, Rose had also received a letter from Stefan concerning her scheduled visit to Damien’s lab. He had enclosed the application process for apprenticeship positions there should she be interested. Stefan had kindly but firmly communicated that Damien had agreed to the tour as a favor to him but that it would be her own merit that got her a position at the lab if she wanted it. It occurred to Rose for the first time that though knowing Stefan had got her a foot in the door, the fact that she was marrying the man Damien was presumably in love with would likely do little to endear her to him.

Professor McGonagall had practically gushed over Damien Angevin when Rose had mentioned the tour —apparently one of her favorite students and a Gryffindor. She had recommended that Rose complete the application ahead of time to have ready to hand in if she liked what she saw on the tour. And that was the reason she found herself lingering after her alchemy lesson on this dreary mid-March day. Damien’s application required two academic references from related fields.

“Professor Snape,” Rose said tentatively as the man began heading for the doorway. She watched in annoyance when he firmly ignored her and walked from the room. Rose sighed to herself and considered not going after him before shaking her head and giving chase.

“Professor! Professor Snape!” She called, catching up to him at the end of the hallway and grabbing the back of his robe between two fingers. Severus Snape paused at the light tug on his robe and turned slowly to face her, his dark eyes piercing. The two stepped to the side of the corridor to avoid the students bustling between classes.

“What do you want, Miss Malfoy,” Snape sneered at her, and Rose swallowed thickly. This was a bad idea; she should just go.

“I was wondering if you’d be willing to write a reference for me?” Rose asked at last only just managing to hold his gaze. Snape raised his eyebrows at her in mocking amusement.

“You want a reference from _me_?” He asked with a sneer. Rose stepped closer to him to avoid being stepped on by a group of second year Gryffindors.

“Yes, it’s for an apprenticeship position with Damien Angevin. I’ve already got one reference from McGonagall and I need another one. I could ask Professor Sprout, but you’re my alchemy teacher, and alchemy involves transfiguration.”

“And why should I write you a reference,” he asked bitingly as the hallways around them began to clear of students.

“Because you are my Professor and it’s your job,” Rose told him scathingly. “I’m a good alchemist and you know it.”

“Well, I don’t see why you can’t write your own reference if you’re so confident in your own abilities,” he snapped, half turning to go. Rose grabbed his sleeve, panicking.

“Please, Severus?” She asked in a defeated tone, he had been baiting her and she’d risen to it like a child. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have acted like that.”

“I will consider it,” Snape deadpanned, and Rose grinned victoriously. He turned to go again but she didn’t release his sleeve. Quirking an eyebrow at her, Snape watched while Rose struggled with herself.

“I—I wanted to say thank you,” she began haltingly.

“I haven’t written it yet,” he quipped.

“Not for that,” Rose rolled her eyes at him. “I don’t know what it cost you to go against Dumbledore and tell Lucius and Narcissa about me, but I know it couldn’t have been easy. Thank you for not forgetting about me.”

“Where did you hear that?” Snape asked, his tone icy.

“I have my sources,” she answered mysteriously, and Snape tilted his head at her in the barest show of amusement.

“It was Hagrid.”

“It was Hagrid,” she confirmed with a sheepish smile, lifting a hand to rub at her eyes. She didn’t want to cry in front of him. She felt his hand take hold of her own, drawing it away from her face so he could look directly into her eyes.

“I could never forget about you, Roselin,” he promised her, and Rose’s heart thudded against her ribcage at his rare show of sincerity. Snape’s eyes flickered behind her, and he quickly stepped away, dropping her hand. Rose turned in time to catch the swish of patched robes disappearing around the corner. She felt her face drain of color and, turning, she ran after Lupin, leaving Snape standing alone in the hallway.

“Professor Lupin!” She called as she ran up the deserted hallway, she saw him hesitate and glance back at her before moving on. “Remus!”

Lupin froze and glanced up and down the hallway looking mildly panicked. Rose caught up to him, and he took her arm and walked them both into an empty classroom, casting a silencing spell on the door. He looked down at her sternly, and Rose was taken aback by the expression.

“You need to stop calling me that.”

“What?” Rose asked in surprise.

“You need to stop using my first name.”

“I thought you liked the way it sounded when I said your name,” Rose answered in irritation, and Lupin’s eyes narrowed at her.

“Rose, I am your teacher.”

“Alright, _Professor_ , I’m sorry.” Rose snapped at him. The two stared at each other for a moment and Remus crossed his arms over his chest, looking at her expectantly.

“Did you need something from me?”

“Rem—Professor, what you just saw, it wasn’t—it wasn’t what it looked like.”

“Given recent events, I don’t think I’m in any position to object to whatever is going on between you and Professor Snape.” He said looking nauseated at the thought.

“It wasn’t like that. I was just asking Professor Snape for a reference.”

“Is that how you ask all your teachers for a reference,” he asked, his lips curling back from his teeth. Rose was shocked at his implication.

“ _Excuse me_ —” she began heatedly, but he quickly cut her off.

“You’re quite good at what you do Rose, I think I understand things much better now. That is one way to get ahead.”

“You have a lot of nerve….” Rose said in a dangerously quiet tone of voice, trailing off in incredulity at the conversation they were having. Lupin looked at her impassively.

“Yes, I suppose it is dangerous for me to upset you now, tell me, will I be under your thumb for the rest of the school year or longer?”

“I am a Malfoy. I have power, wealth, prestige. I’m set to marry a similarly powerful, wealthy man. Remus Lupin, if you think I’ve been showing interest in you in order to use you then you’re a damn fool. What could I possibly gain from that?” Rose snarled at him, tears beginning to pour down her cheeks. She couldn’t believe this was happening or that he would think so little of her. She saw the uncertainty in his eyes as he uncrossed his arms and tentatively reached out for her. “Don’t touch me, _Professor_.”

Rose stormed out of the room, slamming the door so hard that Remus was surprised it didn’t crack. He was left standing in the empty classroom, struggling through a roiling cloud of emotions. When he’d seen Snape standing so close to her, bent towards her face, her hand in his, he had felt so confused and angry. And there was definitely something there—he could sense it in his bones, Rose was hiding something from him. And wouldn’t her actions this year make so much more sense if she’d been trying to seduce him to use him for her own gain? Wasn’t that just the sort of thing a Slytherin—a Malfoy would do? He wasn’t sure which he found more terrifying, the idea that she was using him, or the idea that she truly desired and cared for him and he had just scared her off. If the tears in her eyes were any indication, surely it was the second option. But Remus struggled with that idea, how could she possibly care for him; poor, old, tired werewolf that he was?

For her part, Rose was absolutely furious as she knuckled away tears and tried to get control of her breathing. It had been mere weeks ago that she had begun to fear she might be falling in love with Remus Lupin but at this moment she hated him. Deep inside Rose had to admit, she was particularly angry because she didn’t think he was entirely wrong. Rose did crave power and success and rose to whatever challenge she encountered. And the challenge of winning over the affections of the kind and moral Remus Lupin in a situation he knew to be inappropriate was an exciting one. But even if she found that thought alluring, she couldn’t deny that her attraction to him certainly hadn’t started that way nor had it ever been the motivator each time the two had escalated their relationship. Rose wasn’t sure which thought she found scarier, the idea that he might be right, and she was using him, or the idea that she might actually be falling in love with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos, comment, bookmark! Thanks to all that have been commenting, I love hearing from you all!


	27. Chapter 27

_“I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.  
I love you simply, without problems or pride:  
I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving  
but this, in which there is no I or you,  
so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand,  
so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close.”_

\- Pablo Neruda [Love Sonnet XVll]

Rose stood in his chambers, illuminated by the moonlight that came in through the window, a coy smile on her face. She looked beautiful standing there, her long red curls falling softly around her heart-shaped face and the curves of her body were only hinted at beneath the white t-shirt she wore—his t-shirt. She looked just as incredible in it as he’d imagined she would. When he walked closer to her, her smile widened mischievously, and she tilted her head to look up at him, her eyes sparkling beneath long lashes.

“What kind of brave will you be, Professor?” She asked seductively and he reached out a hand to touch her, but as the moonlight hit his hand it began to curl into a clawed paw. He watched in horror as his perspective shifted into that of a werewolf's, and he howled in frustration. Rose stepped back from him in disgust, and the leering face of Severus Snape became visible behind her, one of his hands placed possessively on her shoulder.

“Who could ever love a werewolf?” Snape sneered down at him.

Lupin sat bolt upright in bed panting and sweating from the dream. Pushing back the covers, he stood and moved to the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face. All week he’d been dreaming of Rose, sometimes he awoke feeling guilty at just how good the dreams were, other times he awoke in a sweaty mess full of anxiety and fear. He tried hard not to let his thoughts linger on the dream while he dressed. They hadn’t spoken in nearly a week and he’d barely seen her since the fight, yet the mere thought of her was torturing him.

Moving into the living room, Remus pulled back the curtains revealing a stormy gray day. It was quite a bit later than he normally slept, but he didn’t have classes until the afternoon, so he supposed a bit of oversleeping had done no harm. Glancing at the coffee table, he saw that there was already a steaming cup of tea sitting there—his favorite ginger green tea blend. Wilpey had been preparing it for him since the first couple weeks of term, and it was always ready and hot when he awoke. Lupin was sure that Rose had instructed the elf to do this and, in the past, he had always sipped the morning cup with a smile. The past week, however, it had just served to make him feel guilty.

Remus sighed at the sharp rapping that came from his door. Walking briskly over, he held his breath as he opened it, exhaling in surprise at the person who stood on the other side.

“Good morning Minerva,” he greeted amicably, he was surprised to see her at his door midmorning on a Tuesday. “Would you like to come in?”

“Thank you, Remus, but no, this will be a quick visit, I have classes starting soon.” She answered brusquely. “I wanted to talk to you about Rose.”

“Rose?” He asked, swallowing hard, trying not to let any uncertainty show on his face.

“I’m worried about her. This week she’s seemed quite off—not performing to her usual standards in classes, not paying attention, looking miserable. And this morning she received a rejection letter for an article she submitted to _Transfiguration Today_. She took it very hard and Pomona has just told me she missed her morning herbology lesson—and Rose Malfoy is not the kind of student who skips classes.”

“I—I’m sorry to hear all that,” Remus said lamely, and McGonagall fixed him with a stern expression.

“I wonder if you could talk with her next time you see her, the two of you seem to have become quite close over the year.”

“Of course,” he answered quickly.

“She’s a good girl, Rose, a bit misguided, but good. Quite a brilliant student, looks so much like Lily but reminds me of James most days. They have nearly identical wands you know.”

“I didn’t know,” Remus said in a choked voice. He’d barely seen her wand this year as they’d been focusing on wandless magic.

“Oh yes, eleven inches, mahogany, dragon heartstring. The first time I saw her use it, I knew she’d be a great transfigurist just like her father,” Minerva mused, her expression softening. “She’s not used to failing at anything, that girl—a bit spoiled from the Malfoys I’m afraid—she just needs a reminder that there will be bumps in the road, and she needs to get back up and keep going.”

“I’ll do my best to tell her that next time I see her.” Remus promised, earning a small smile from Minerva. After she left, he fell onto the couch, one hand covering his eyes in frustration. It didn’t help block out the image of Rose running from the room and slamming the door behind her, tears falling from her eyes.

“I am a damn fool,” he told himself. Whatever was going on between her and Severus, how could he doubt the look she got in her eyes when they met his or the gentle blush that graced her cheek when he caught her staring? How had he doubted her sincerity once again after she had proved herself to be a genuine ally to him over and over again this year? Remus moved quickly to his desk and pulled out the Marauder’s Map that he’d confiscated from Harry. His eyes hopped around from ink dot to ink dot until they finally landed on her name. There was a jolt in his stomach as he read the tag ‘ _Rose Potter Malfoy_ ’ and he smiled at the name, a great rush of affection for her coursing through his body. Folding the map, he slipped it back into his desk drawer and hurried from the room.

Rose sat beneath an awning on a balcony on the fifth floor. She was propped against the hard stone wall and was watching the rainstorm apathetically. Great wet sheets were falling across the Black Lake, and the wind was whipping up small waves across its surface. She was well protected from the storm and the angle of the wind by the castle walls and was staying quite dry behind the decorative railing. It was unseasonably warm despite the rain, and Rose had shed her heavy school robe and unbuttoned a couple buttons of her blouse, loosening the tie from around her neck. She chewed at the butt of the cigarette in her mouth absentmindedly while she watched the rain, wondering if a lightning storm would finally come, but the locket around her neck remained quiet.

“Hey,” a voice came tentatively from the classroom door behind her. Rose craned her neck around and glanced up at a concerned looking Lupin. Taking the cigarette out of her mouth, Rose let out a long puff of smoke, looking back at the rain. She waited for him to yell at her, but the rebuke never came.

“Do you mind if I sit?” Remus asked. Rose shrugged and flicked the cigarette butt over the balcony, pulling another one out of the half empty pack. She tried not to look at him while he settled on the ground beside her, stretching his legs out next to hers. She could feel his gaze on her face as she lit the cigarette.

“I didn’t know you smoked.”

“I don’t,” she said, exhaling a cloud of smoke. “Sam gave me a pack back in February, just thought I’d finish it.”

“We used to smoke a lot our last years at Hogwarts,” Remus reminisced with a smile, and Rose held a cigarette out to him. He looked at her in surprise, and she shrugged.

“You can say no, but you’ll lose all the cool points you’ve accumulated this year.” She told him with a teasing smile on her face. He laughed, taking the cigarette and putting it between his lips. He lit it with a small blue flame he conjured at his fingertips. Rose had to admit he looked rather sexy with a cigarette in his mouth. She looked back at the storm, determined not to think about how good he looked. They hadn’t talked for a week—not since their argument, and, though she was feeling too drained to fight, she also wasn’t sure she was ready to make nice.

“What are you doing here Remus—no, sorry, _Professor_ Lupin,” she corrected herself, an insincere sneer on her face when she said it. She could hear his sigh as he smoked beside her and could picture the way he looked when he ran his hand through his hair.

“Minerva told me what happened, she said you were taking it hard.” He answered. Rose blinked back tears, looking away from him. Picking up a letter from her lap she offered it to Lupin who skimmed the contents quickly. Rose had read it so many times she had it practically memorized.

_'Thank you for the submission of your essay, we at Transfiguration Today are sorry to reject your paper for publication. We do not think the subject of lycanthropy would be of sufficient interest to our readers in the discipline of transfiguration and hope you will apply again with a different topic.’_

“Your paper was on lycanthropy?” Remus asked with surprise.

“I was making the case for its study in the field of transfiguration. I worked really _really_ hard on it,” Rose said with a sniff, wiping a tear from her face. “A published article was the last thing I needed for my application to work with _Damien fucking Angevin_ and now I won’t have it.”

“Rose, I’m sure it was wonderful,” Remus assured her kindly. “People have a lot of prejudice around werewolves. They don’t want to study lycanthropy; they want to ignore it.”

The two lapsed into silence for a minute. Remus coughed as he exhaled, and Rose chuckled at him, but her smile didn’t reach her eyes.

“Professor McGonagall has been telling me for two years that I need to do more with my life than marry a rich man and have his children. What if she’s wrong? What if I’m really just a subpar disappointment?” Rose finally asked aloud the thoughts she’d been sitting there think for the past hour.

“You’re not subpar and you aren’t a disappointment Rose, you’re kind and intelligent and driven,” Remus told her. Rose looked at him sharply, her lips drawing back from her teeth.

“Oh? I thought I was a manipulative bitch who slept with all of my professors?” She snarled at him, and Remus flinched, dropping his eyes into his lap. She took another long inhale before continuing. “Maybe you’re right about me, maybe I am just a manipulative bitch.”

“Don’t talk about yourself like that,” he said gently.

“I’ll talk about myself however I like. I haven’t said anything worse than you did.”

“I didn’t call you a—I shouldn’t have said those things,” Remus said softly, staring out at the rain, Rose glanced at him with a half-smile.

“That was a piss-poor apology,” she told him, and he grinned at her boyishly—the kind of grin that made her heart beat faster in her chest. Remus lifted his arm invitingly and Rose flicked her cigarette butt away and scooched over to him, laying her head against his chest and draping one of her legs over his own. His arm held her close, his hand resting against her waist, thumb inscribing small circles on her hipbone. She listened to his steady heartbeat and breathed in the earthy smell of him. She dug her fingers into his shirt and closed her eyes, enjoying being close to him and being held by him. Remus covered her hand with his own, twisting the ring around her finger absentmindedly.

“Are you really going to marry him? Dolohov?” He asked, watching the rain.

“Yes,” she answered nonchalantly.

It was the answer he had expected, but it didn’t make it hurt less. But why shouldn’t she marry him? It wasn’t as if Lupin was making the offer in his place, he had only just begun to get to know Rose, she was his student and the daughter of two of his best friends. Any feelings that existed between them were hopeless from the start. Pushing those thoughts aside, Lupin watched the rain and listened to the soothing sound of it falling all around them. For now, she was here in his arms—not in Dolohov’s, not in Snape’s—in his arms. And she felt so soft and warm and fit so perfectly there that Remus could only focus on her body pressed against his own and the tingling electricity she seemed to give off. He felt completely and utterly lost in the scent of her, in the feel of her.

“I missed you,” she said into his shirt, smiling when he held her tighter. “How did you know I was up here anyways?”

“Magic,” he answered after a moment. Cracking an eye open, she gave him a skeptical look, but at the mischievous grin on his face rolled her eyes at him and snuggled deeper into his embrace.

“All year I tried really hard to be helpful to you, I stood up for you to other Slytherins, I kept your secret…” Rose said into his shirt. Remus set his cigarette down on the stone beside him and smoothed her hair back from her face. Rose closed her eyes tight against any more tears, enjoying the warmth of his palm against her cheek.

“I know you have,” he told her, his voice low and sweet and soothing.

“I didn’t expect—I didn’t go into this wanting things to happen the way they did. Believe me, it would be so much easier for me to feel nothing for you.” Twisting into a sitting position she brushed back tears from her eyes, blinking furiously to clear them. Remus sat up straighter and took her hands in his, pulling them from her face so he could look into her eyes. He smiled a sad smile at her, rubbing his thumbs over her knuckles affectionately.

“Rose, when I came to Hogwarts, I came as a favor to Dumbledore. Meeting you, working with you, getting to know you, it’s been… incredible. I never thought I’d come to care for you the way I have.” He told her, his blue eyes staring deeply into her own. Rose’s heart was thrumming in her chest at his words, her breath catching in her throat. Lifting a hand, Remus pushed a lock of her hair back from her face, running his knuckles across her cheek and down her neck. As he cupped her chin and leaned towards her, Rose could feel goosebumps erupting across her entire body.

“You are the most amazing person I have ever met, and you will do incredible things with your life.” Remus told her sincerely, and, leaning forward, he pressed his lips to her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos, comment, bookmark!


	28. Chapter 28

_So kiss me sweet with your warm wet mouth,  
Still fragrant with ruby wine,  
And say with a fervor born of the South  
That your body and soul are mine.  
Clasp me close in your warm young arms,  
While the pale stars shine above,  
And we’ll live our whole young lives away  
In the joys of a living love._

\- Ella Wheeler Wilcox [I Love You]

The simple act of pressing his lips to her own drove all the doubts and fears Rose had ever had of what would happen if they got caught out of her mind. Leaning forward, she pressed her lips more firmly against his, an explosion of heat going off in her stomach. The hand on her chin trailed down her neck and his fingers tangled in her hair at the base of her skull. After a long moment he pulled away and smiled at her sheepishly, a guilty look in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

“ _Shut-up_ , Remus,” Rose managed to get out as she grabbed his tie and pulled him roughly back to her, their lips crashing together with bruising force. This seemed to rid Lupin of any remaining misgivings as his other arm snaked around the small of her back. She flung her leg over his, and he practically dragged her onto his lap, her knees scraping across the stone, their bodies pressing together eagerly. She ran her hands up his chest and around his broad shoulders—nails digging into the back of his shirt. He tasted like chocolate and cigarettes and she found it utterly intoxicating.

She sighed into his mouth as his lips captured hers once more, their tongues entwining. Her breasts were pressed against his chest and they ached from how hard her nipples had become. Her body felt like it was on fire. She ground her hips into his, eliciting a sharp gasp from him, his fingers digging into her hipbone, she could feel how his own body was responding to her by the hardness that pressed up against her through his pants. The feel of him there drove her absolutely mad. Rose was sure she was going to melt.

Tugging on her hair, Remus tilted her head back and began kissing his way along her jawline, snagging her earlobe between his teeth and nibbling it gently. He planted kisses down her neck, along her collarbone and as far down between her breasts as her opened blouse would allow him. Moaning in pleasure, Rose rolled her hips against his again, raking her nails up his back and across his scalp. Remus growled against her skin, and Rose found the world spinning as he flipped her onto her back, laying her body gently against the stone floor. For a moment he just stared at her, enjoying her disheveled appearance. Rose’s hair was splayed out across the stone, her cheeks flushed and lips parted with desire, her legs were spread invitingly, her creamy thighs visible all the way up to the skirt that was bunched up around her hips.

“Merlin, you are beautiful,” he told her. Rose grinned up at him, tilting her head to the side coyly while she pulled her tie loose and unbuttoned first one button then another and another until she exposed her pale abdomen and the simple bralette that held her round breasts captive, her hard nipples just visible through the thin fabric.

“Why don’t you show me what you think of me instead of sitting there telling me about it,” she said, and he didn’t need to be told twice. Lupin leaned forward, sliding a hand up her thigh, bending down to capture her lips in his own. She tangled her hands in his hair, wrapping her legs around his hips to pull him closer. She loved the way his body felt when it pressed down against hers—the feel of his weight between her thighs. She moaned when her crotch made contact with the front of his pants and it was his turn to grind his hips into hers.

His hand slid up her stomach and was just beginning to push aside the fabric of her bra when the two were interrupted by a loud whistling shriek. Rose glanced down at her locket uncomprehendingly for a moment before her lust-addled mind suddenly put the pieces together. She sat up so fast that she and Lupin bumped heads.

“Ouch, sorry,” she said, rubbing her forehead. He was doing the same but gave her an amused smile. The crash of thunder in the distance and another piercing shriek from the locket was about as effective as a cold shower. “Shit, I have to go, I have to go right now, I am so sorry.”

Rose hastily began to button her blouse back up and raked a hand through her hair quickly. Lupin who had already stood up helped her to her feet. Rose took a moment to gaze up at him and, standing on her toes, planted another kiss on his lips. ‘ _Damnit, why did it have to be now_ ,’ she thought to herself grumpily.

“I’m going to go,” she said between kisses. Rose took both his hands in her own and squeezed them affectionately. “Don’t do that thing you do.”

“What thing?” He asked, looking at her with warm blue eyes.

“The thing where you get all distant and guilt-ridden,” she said sternly, and he let out a bark of laughter.

“No promises,” he told her, squeezing her hands in return before letting them slide from his grip. "Good luck, Rose."

Rose turned and ran through the classroom, into the hallway, and down the stairs. Jumping the vanishing step, she skidded around a corner and pushed past a crowd of students who were leaving the transfiguration classroom. Panting, she pushed open the door and saw McGonagall standing beside her desk with her own locket in hand, tapping her foot anxiously.

“There you are,” she said when she saw Rose. As Rose approached and McGonagall got a better look at her, her face became quite stern. Rose glanced down at herself and realized that she had misbuttoned her blouse to that the ends did not line up and the fabric was looking quite wrinkled, her tie was missing, and her knees were badly scratched. “Miss Malfoy, what on earth—have, have you been smoking!?”

“Please, Professor, the transformation,” Rose reminded urgently when their lockets gave another shriek. McGonagall pursed her lips disapprovingly but didn’t continue the lecture that Rose was sure would come later. Leading her to the storeroom, she instructed Rose to pull out the black box she had left there for safekeeping. Rose let out a shaky breath while she opened the lid and saw that the potion inside had turned a deep blood red. Pulling out the phial, she showed it to McGonagall who nodded approvingly. Flicking her wand at the desks, McGonagall cleared out the center of the classroom.

“Take the locket off, and I’d recommend lying down,” McGonagall instructed, and Rose swallowed nervously, handing the locket to McGonagall and lowering herself to the floor. “Say the incantation, drink the potion, and try to relax.”

Rose laughed shakily at this suggestion, and pulled out her wand, placing the tip at her heart. She tried hard not to think of the stories she’d heard of the transformation gone wrong—of people forced to live out their lives as half animal monsters who could not be untransfigured. Becoming an animagus had seemed like such a fun challenge, but now that it was time to go through with it, she wasn’t sure she was brave enough. Rose could feel her hand shaking as she gripped her wand tightly and her throat felt tight. Was she really good enough to do this? ‘ _You are the most amazing person I have ever met, and you will do incredible things with your life_ ,’ Remus’ voice echoed inside her head, bringing a small smile to her face. She could do this; she would do this. She was Rose Malfoy after all.

“Amato animo animato animagus,” Rose recited, before setting her wand beside her and uncorking the phial. She swallowed the mouthful of potion, wincing at the taste. For a moment nothing happened, and Rose began to worry something had gone wrong. Then the intense _thu-thump-thu-thump_ of a double heartbeat began in her chest—it was as if a second heart were beating in sync with her own. Her chest above her heart grew warm and tingly but the pleasant feeling quickly turned into a painful fiery sensation that spread throughout her whole body.

Rose gasped in pain, feeling sweat break out across her forehead. Her vision was going dark and Rose felt trapped in her burning body. In the darkness, two eyes glinted at her from the shadows. She felt a rush of fear when she looked into the eyes. As the figure became clearer, Rose realized she was looking at the sleek form of a fox—its reddish orange fur nearly the same color as her own hair. It looked at her with familiar hazel eyes and tilted its head curiously. Rose felt her heartbeats calm slightly. Something about the fox felt familiar—felt right. Rose extended a hand to the fox and it moved gracefully forward, sniffing at her fingertips hesitantly.

“It’s okay,” she reassured it. “I won’t hurt you.”

When the fox touched her fingers with its cold pointed nose, everything around her faded to black. Blinking rapidly, Rose opened her eyes to see the transfiguration classroom. It looked different, everything seemed to be in sharper focus, yet the colors were dulled and muted as if the greens and reds had been removed. When she lifted her head from the floor, she also realized that the classroom appeared much larger than she remembered. Rose tried to stand up only to immediately fall over in a lump, panic forming in her chest. _Four legs_ , she had four legs. Looking down at her paws covered in black fur, Rose began to tremble slightly.

“Relax, Miss Malfoy,” came the approving voice of McGonagall. Rose looked up at the woman and was surprised to see the wide smile on her face. “You’ve done wonderfully. It will take a little while to get used to your animal form.”

Rose nodded in understanding and with a great deal of concentration managed to stand up. She felt a little bit off balance with her much longer neck and, after taking only a few steps, fell forward onto her face. She was surprised to hear McGonagall laughing softly to herself, and Rose glared up at the woman.

“In my experience, it takes a little while to work out how to use a tail.” McGonagall explained. Rose’s eyes widened. ‘ _I have a tail_.’ Spinning in circles to get a better look at the bushy red tail with its white tip, it didn’t take long for Rose to fall over again.

“As amusing as this is, let’s get you back into your human form so we can talk,” McGonagall told her. “I want you to focus on your human body, try to feel yourself in it, will yourself to change.”

Rose closed her eyes and did as instructed. When she opened them again, she was still a fox. She looked at McGonagall in fear.

“Don’t panic, it can take a while to change back your first few times. Try a few more times. If all else fails, I can change you back myself.” After nearly twenty minutes of trying, Rose was finally able to change back into a human. When she changed back, she found herself crouching on the floor on all fours and hastily stood up. She’d have to work on that. Rose felt trembly from the adrenaline coursing through her body; she was elated and still shaking in mild terror.

“I can’t believe I did it,” Rose said excitedly, and McGonagall grinned at her.

“Congratulations, Miss Malfoy. We will work on your transformations together, don’t try to transform on your own until I give my approval—you don’t want to get stuck as a fox. We also need to get you registered at the Ministry, but we have a month after your first transformation to do that.” McGonagall informed her. Rose nodded while she digested all the information.

“What if I transform on accident?” she asked, wondering if it might happen just from thinking about the fox form.

“That’s quite unlikely, you’ll probably have to use a wand to transform for at least the next several months. Many animagi are never able to transform without a wand, but Professor Lupin tells me you’ve shown great aptitude for wandless magic, so I’m sure you’ll figure it out eventually. I am very proud of you, Rose.”

“Thank you, Professor,” Rose replied. Hearing the compliment from the witch she so greatly admired meant more to her than she could say.

“I suppose I will give… fifty points to Slytherin, and you will also be serving detention with me this Saturday, Malfoy.”

“D—detention?! But, Professor—”

“No buts, Malfoy, you look a complete mess and you smell like a chimney.”

Rose was sure she had to be the first person in history to receive a detention immediately following their first successful animagus transformation. But as she walked out of the transfiguration classroom, Rose couldn’t help the wide grin that crossed her face. She had done it. She was the eighth animagus this century—the eighth registered one anyways. Not only had she succeeded at that, but she and Remus Lupin had finally kissed. Her grin widened. Not just kissed—they had _snogged_. Just thinking about it was enough to start her heart racing again. The only thing keeping her from running back to him was the knowledge that his afternoon classes were probably starting and what she wanted to do to him was not something appropriate for first year Hufflepuffs to witness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos, comments, bookmark!


	29. Chapter 29

_The things about you I appreciate may seem indelicate:  
I’d like to find you in the shower  
And chase the soap for half an hour.  
I’d like to have you in my power and see your eyes dilate.  
I’d like to have your back to scour  
And other parts to lubricate._

\- John Fuller [Valentine]

Sexual frustration became Rose’s new normal for the last week of March. It was amazing how much harder it was to find alone time with Remus Lupin now that she actually wanted it. It was the week of the full moon, and Remus was beginning to look rather haggard again. Even when they were grading papers in his office the pair were rarely alone for long. All of the professors for all the grades had pre-easter exams or lengthy essays due and students were popping in and out of his office all day asking clarifying questions or in a mild state of panic. She swore that if Hermione Granger stuck her head in the office one more time that week, Rose was going to slap the poor overworked girl.

When she wasn’t helping dig Remus out from under a pile of grading, Rose had her own academics to contend with. All weekend—including during her detention—McGonagall had her rushing to finish a perspective piece on her animagus transformation for _Transfiguration Today_. She sent it off Monday, hoping it would make the April edition of the paper or, if not, at least be first in line for May. Though it was well-written, Rose was not particularly proud of it. She was sure the piece would be accepted this time as animagus transformations were always hot news, but she hadn’t needed to put nearly as much research or effort into the paper as she had for her lycanthropy essay. As a student, she was also studying for her own upcoming exams and finishing off assignments while also meeting Professor McGonagall every evening to practice her transformation into a fox and back into a human again.

“Why do professors always do this,” Sam whined from across the table. Ava, Mariko, and Rose all looked up from their books at her.

“Do what?” Ava asked.

“Make everything due at the same damn time. Can’t they coordinate amongst themselves? It can’t be that hard.” Sam continued, glancing up from the desks they had pushed together to glare at Lupin. He had come down from his office to grade papers at his classroom desk. With the library so full it was basically at standing room only, Rose had shyly asked his permission to use the DADA classroom for their studies.

“We do try to coordinate, actually,” Lupin smiled at her from over the top of a roll of parchment. “Unfortunately, Professor Snape and I haven’t shared schedules this year. I didn’t realize our essays were due on the same day.”

“Yeah, Snape hates your guts too, doesn’t he?” Sam replied and Ava elbowed her in the ribs.

“We’re not… close,” Remus answered lightly. Remus met Rose’s eyes over the top of his paper, and he grinned and winked at her. Rose felt her face go pink, and she bit her lip trying to hide a wide smile—she failed terribly, and Lupin radiated smugness.

“Professor Snape is a great teacher,” Mariko defended their head of house. Rose knew she was only doing this out of obligation as she had been complaining all night about his essay on antidotes too.

“If by great teacher you mean someone who writes instructions on a board and then glares at you for the rest of the class, then yes, he is a great teacher,” Sam snapped back.

“He’s not that bad, Sam,” Ava spoke up.

“You only think that because you’re the best potioneer in our class,” Sam said, patting her hand affectionately. Rose, who remembered that Sam was also quite good at potions, said nothing and enjoyed the smile that lit up Ava’s face at Sam’s compliment.

“You two can be so nauseating,” Mari ruined the moment.

“Um, pot, kettle, black? Be glad you don’t have to watch you and Parker together because it is absolutely disgusting.”

“We’re not—”

“You hold hands while eating meals, Mari,” Rose agreed with Sam immediately.

“But, but, Ava and Sam are together all the time,” Mari whined, gesturing at the two of them. Sam grinned and threw her arm around Ava’s waist.

“That’s because Ava isn’t just my girlfriend, she’s also my best friend,” Sam grinned broadly. Ava’s face was very red at this point, but she looked quite pleased and leaned into Sam’s shoulder while keeping her eyes in her potion’s book.

“Well Parker is _my_ —”

“Ladies were you planning on getting any homework done today,” Remus admonished gently from his desk.

“Sorry, Professor,” they chorused and returned to their work.

Rose went back to reviewing the synthesis and decomposition that made up chemical changes in muggle chemistry. Rose had never been interested in muggles before, but her alchemy class had given her a grudging appreciation for the hard work that went into their understanding of the elements and how to change them. To think that they had accomplished so much without the use of magic. Rose recognized only after the fact that the animagus transformation was really an alchemical process that chemically changed her body into that of a fox’s by breaking down and reforming bonds in her molecules. This was why if one mucked up the process they could get stuck as a permanent chimera of sorts since transfiguration on its own was only a physical change of appearance.

Glancing up at Lupin while she turned a page, Rose couldn’t help the warmth in her stomach at the sight of his tired face. His sandy brown hair had fallen into his eyes once again as he read, and despite the dark circles under his eyes he looked focused and interested in what he was doing. Rose admired the look of thoughtful intelligence he always gave off. It was different than the piercing keenness of McGonagall or the cold conceit of Snape. Lupin always seemed so approachable and ready to share what he knew without hesitation. Rose both admired that kind of authentic honesty and found it mildly terrifying. She’d been raised to believe that knowledge was power and that one should always hoard it or risk falling behind others in the pursuit of success and renown.

“I was wondering what could have made you lose interest in Professor Snape.” Rose jumped as Sam whispered in her ear. She realized the Hufflepuff had switched places with Mariko who was currently deep in conversation with Ava about their charms homework.

“I—uh, what?” Rose managed lamely, and Sam grinned at her.

“I’ve watched you moon over Snape for a year in our potions classes together, I know what it looks like when you’re head over heals for someone,” Sam said, and Rose blushed a fiery red to match her hair.

“I’m not…”

“Do you want to explain the lovestruck look you were just giving him then?”

“I don’t… I’m not… _in love_ with him,” Rose said, but her heart was beating hard against her chest in protest of her statement.

“You sure do have a type,” Sam teased. “I must admit that Lupin is much better looking than Snape. Why you’re so into old men I’ll never understand.”

“He’s not old,” Rose responded.

“He has gray hair, Rose.”

“It’s distinguished.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you find him very… _distinguished_ looking,” Sam teased laughingly.

An image of Lupin in his casualwear leaning against the doorframe to his bedroom flickered through her mind, quickly followed by the molten look in his eyes when he bent down to kiss her. Rose shoved that image from her head immediately.

“Too bad you’re getting married, we graduate in a couple months, based on the way he looks at you sometimes I bet he’d be down to hook up. Although Mariko tells me that purebloods fuck like bunnies with other people, so maybe you still have a chance.”

“Samira Asare!” Rose said in a censorious whisper, and Sam raised her eyebrows at the use of her full name.

“This must be really serious; you’ve never shied away from a little fantasizing before.” Sam said, her eyes narrowed suspiciously. Rose realized her mistake instantly. She and Sam had had plenty of drunken conversations in which she had been quite explicit about all of the dirty things she wanted to do to Severus Snape.

“It’s a little different when he’s sitting right there,” she whispered back heatedly. Sam grinned at her and shrugged.

“Didn’t realize that made a difference.”

“Look, if you want to get drunk and talk about how unbelievably sexy I think he is and exactly what I’d like to do with him instead of grade papers that’s fine, but we’re not going to have this conversation here.” Rose admonished, still watching Lupin as he read over his essays. Because of this, she saw the exact moment the corner of his lips tugged back in a self-satisfied smile, and Rose groaned internally. The man could hear everything they were saying. ‘ _Goddamn werewolf hearing_.’

“It’s a date,” Sam grinned, going back to her reading. After a few minutes, Lupin looked up from his desk at a knock on his door.

“Hello there, what can I help you with?” he asked.

“I was told I might be able to find Rose Malfoy in here,” came a familiar voice. Rose’s blood went cold, and she swiveled in her seat.

“Stefan!” Rose exclaimed in surprise at seeing the man standing there. His dark hair was slicked back from his angular face, and he was wearing dark plum wizengamot robes over a black suit that was tailored perfectly for his slim frame. “What, what are you doing here?”

“Cornelius had some things he needed personally delivered to the Headmaster and asked if I wanted an excuse to see you. How could I say no?” Stefan smiled charmingly at her, and Rose swallowed awkwardly, doing her best not to glance back at Remus Lupin. She did, however, enjoy the fact that her fiancé was on a first name basis with the Minister of Magic. “Are these your friends?”

“Yes!” Rose exclaimed, realizing she was being rude. She stood up as Stefan walked to her side and began the introductions. “Mari you met at the Christmas party. This is Samira Asare and Ava Feldner.”

“Charmed,” Stefan said formally, kissing both Sam and Ava on their knuckles when they offered their hands to shake. Sam raised her eyebrows at this but, being on her best behavior in front of her friend’s fiancé, said nothing.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” Ava told him graciously. Rose watched as Stefan inspected Ava curiously, but he didn’t say anything, instead he smiled at her and then looked over her shoulder at Lupin.

“And you must be Professor Lupin, Rose spoke very highly of you over the holidays,” Stefan said, and Lupin who had risen from his desk shook hands with him. Rose looked between the pair in mild panic but saw no signs of discomfort on Remus’ face— _'still a good liar_.’

“I’m sure whatever she said was vastly exaggerated,” Lupin responded good-naturedly.

“I don’t know if I mentioned it,” Stefan said glancing at Rose, “But Lupin and I overlapped at Hogwarts—just for the one year of course.”

“Did we really?” Lupin asked with a laugh, running his hand through his hair.

“Oh yes. I don’t expect you to remember me, I was only a shy Ravenclaw first-year, but their group was notoriously well known.”

“Notorious sounds like the right word,” Lupin smiled. “Will you be joining us for long? Please, pull up a seat.”

“No, unfortunately this was only a quick visit.” Stefan said and turned to Rose. “Actually, my dear, do you have a moment to talk about the tour with Angevin? I thought I was going to be able to join you for it, but a case has come up at the department, and Madam Bones has us working overtime until it’s finished. I’m afraid I may not be free until the evening.”

“Oh, that’s alright,” Rose answered, though the idea of facing Damien Angevin on his own was mildly terrifying. It was possible that Stefan’s absence might actually help her make a better impression however—not that she really expected him to forget she was marrying his lover.

“His lab is near St. Mungo’s, if I give you directions, do you think you can you get there alright?”

“Of course,” Rose told him. What else was she going to say, after all? She quickly wrote down the address and his instructions for entering the lab on a spare bit of parchment.

“That’s near our flat,” Sam said conversationally. “I know the area pretty well if you want help getting there. You could stay with us over Easter if you want, I was planning to go home for it anyways. Plus, my dads have been wanting to meet you for years now, they’d be delighted to have you.”

“Dads?” Stefan inquired, and Sam fixed him with a stern look.

“Yeah, got a problem with that?”

“No! No, not at all,” Stefan said quickly.

“That would be amazing, Sam,” Rose accepted gratefully.

“I really must get going, Roselin,” Stefan said, stepping closer to her, and Rose, remembering the goodbye he had given her at Platform 9 ¾’s quickly wrapped her arm around his and started towards the door.

“Let me walk you out,” she smiled at him. The idea of him kissing even her cheek in front of Lupin left her feeling mortified. She did not need Remus to start avoiding her again. Stefan waved goodbye at the room’s occupants as Rose led him out of the room and down the stairs.

“Thanks for visiting me, and for helping me get this tour,” Rose told him.

“Of course, Rose, what benefits you benefits me after all, you know how these things work,” he said simply, and she nodded. This was logic she understood.

“You look good in those robes,” she said, and she meant it. With the silver ‘W’ embroidered on the front it was impossible to mistake them for anything else or miss the symbol of power the robes implied.

“I’ve always thought the plum was a bit much, but thank you,” he replied. In truth, though the purplish-red shade would look terrible on many others, with his dark hair and cool skin tone, he managed to wear the color very well. Rose was pretty sure he knew this and was just being modest.

“I didn’t know they were wearing muggle clothing at the ministry now,” she said, referring to the suit he was wearing rather than a full set of dress robes.

“It’s becoming quite fashionable among younger witches and wizards. And, as my family has a… a bit of a reputation, seeing me in muggle attire from time to time certainly doesn’t hurt.” He smiled with a cold look in his eyes. Rose nodded in understanding thinking that his reasoning was quite clever.

The pair slowed as they came to the front doors. As it was nearing the end of the lunch hour, there were plenty of students moving about, casting curious glances at the pair. Rose found herself flushed with pride at being seen with him in his wizengamot attire. When a group of Slytherin sixth-year girls walked past whispering to each other Rose couldn’t help lifting her chin arrogantly. ‘ _That’s right_ ,’ she thought ‘ _This is my fiancé_. _’_

“Well, off I go,” Stefan said, stopping in front of the doors and giving her a tired smile.

“Thanks for visiting, give my thanks to the Minister as well,” Rose smiled back at him.

“I will,” he promised, squeezing her hand before leaning in to kiss her cheek. Now that she was expecting it, Rose found the kiss quite pleasant, his lips soft and warm against her skin.

“Miss Malfoy, Mister Dolohov, if the two of you could keep your pre-wedding public displays of affection to a minimum inside these halls, we’d all be most grateful,” drawled an annoyed voice from behind them. Stefan stepped back quickly, and Rose blushed as she met the dark gaze of Severus Snape.

“Sorry, Professor,” she said, her eyes on the ground.

“I will remind you that you are still a student for the next few months as well as Hogwarts’ Head Girl, and your behavior should reflect that reality,” he admonished. Rose tried hard to keep the glare from her face. Who was Severus Snape to talk to her about appropriate behavior? He certainly didn’t mind when it was his chambers she’d been sneaking off to late at night.

“That was my fault, Professor,” Stefan said instantly, “I’ll try to keep my hands to myself in the future.”

“See that you do,” Snape said, his dark eyes glittering in obvious irritation.

“Goodbye, Rose,” Stefan said.

“Goodbye.” She watched him leave and then rounded on Snape with raised eyebrows. Neither of them dared say anything in the public area. He just sneered at her before heading into the Great Hall. She resisted the urge to make a rude gesture behind his back, certain that he’d somehow know if she did. As she traipsed back up the staircases to the DADA classroom, she began to worry once again about Lupin and how he would react to meeting Stefan.

When she pushed open the classroom door, she was surprised to find it empty. Her friends must have gone down to catch the tail end of the lunch hour, and Lupin must have returned to his office. Swallowing her disappointment, she began to pack up her papers and textbooks. If she hurried, she could probably catch them and have time to grab a snack before afternoon classes began.

When strong arms wrapped around her from behind and pulled her back against his chest, Rose jumped in surprise—she hadn’t heard him come down the stairs at all. Lupin lowered his head so that his mouth was against her ear, the stubble on his chin scratching pleasantly at her neck.

“Just what is it you’d rather do with me than grade papers?” He asked in a low voice that sent a shiver of pleasure through her body. Goosebumps erupted across her skin at his breath on her neck. She was sure her knees would have given out if he hadn’t been holding her so tightly, effectively trapping her in his embrace.

“I—I—,” Rose stuttered, her face bright red from surprise and desire as he nibbled her ear and planted kisses against her neck, his teeth grazing across the flesh he found there. Rose closed her eyes and tilted her head to give him better access, pressing her hips back into him while he slid one hand up to cup her breast, his thumb flicking across her nipple, and the other moved down across her abdomen, over her skirt and onto her thigh, slowly sliding back up her bare leg beneath the hemline. Her heart was racing so hard she thought she might pass out.

“This wouldn’t happen to be what you had in mind?” He asked teasingly into her ear, and his voice was nearly a growl. He sounded positively wolfish and it was making her so hot—hot and wet. She squirmed in his embrace, wanting to turn around so she could touch him, but he held her fast and continued kissing her neck and ear. She waited with bated breath to see if he would move his hand any higher up her leg and ground herself back against him impatiently. The growl this elicited from him nearly finished her right there.

“As much as I would love to continue this, pet, I think we both have classes to get ready for.”

“Sod… classes…,” Rose panted, and Lupin chuckled in her ear the heat from his breath made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. When he released her, Rose immediately spun around and grabbed the front of his robes, wanting, needing to kiss him again. She mewled in protest when his hand caught the hair at the base of her skull and kept her gently, but firmly from reaching her goal. She met his eyes with a mutinous look, and his amused lust-filled grin made her stomach flutter.

“Now, now,” He told her, looking down at her lips hungrily. “Where is that famous Malfoy patience? We don't want to start what we can't finish.”

“Who started what now?” she asked accusingly, but his grin only widened at her unapologetically. Slowly, reluctantly, Rose released the front of his robes, and Remus let go of her hair as she stepped back. He gave her an approving nod just as the bell for afternoon classes rang. As she walked out, her knees still trembling and the space between her thighs radiating heat, Rose thought that she much preferred this version of a jealous Remus Lupin, but she wasn't sure it was any less torturous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know whether I'm spoiling or torturing you all with these chapters, but I hope whichever it is you're enjoying it. Thanks so much to everyone who regularly comments! It's so motivating knowing there are people enjoying my story.


	30. Chapter 30

_“The Arabs used to say,  
When a stranger appears at your door,  
feed him for three days  
before asking who he is,  
where he’s come from,  
where he’s headed.  
That way, he’ll have strength  
enough to answer.  
Or, by then you’ll be  
such good friends  
you don’t care.”_

\- Naomi Shihab Nye [Red Brocade]

“Just up these steps here,” Sam instructed as the two dragged their trunks up half a flight of stairs. They’d taken a terrifying muggle device called an elevator up to the top floor and only had the stairs left to get to the penthouse apartment. Rose was not entirely sure where in London they were situated, but Sam had assured her they were somewhere between St. Mungo’s and Diagon Alley and that Damien’s lab was about a ten-minute walk from them.

Sam pushed open the door and Rose followed her into the apartment, her eyes widened. The apartment had high ceilings and went on for the entire length of the rooftop. Floor to ceiling windows lined one entire side, illuminating the bright white industrial features within. Various plants added a lively feel to the space, and she could tell even from a distance that the furniture was quite expensive. Rose didn’t know much about muggle London, but she could identify wealth when she saw it.

“This is… beautiful,” Rose said excitedly to Sam who grinned back at her.

“That’s Baba’s doing, he’s a pretty big deal in the muggle world,” Sam said smugly. Looking around at the incredibly designed space, Rose could see why.

“Samira!” Cried a happy voice and the two turned to see a man with a warm bronzed skin, curling black hair, and a closely cropped beard walking towards them with his arms outstretched. He wore a floral shirt—unbuttoned nearly halfway—and tight ripped jeans. His fingers were adorned with long red nails and a plethora of rings, the golden necklace around his neck falling down between his well-formed pecs.

“Baba!” Sam exclaimed in return, letting her father enfold her in his tight embrace. Rose stood awkwardly at the door, examining the man closely. This was Sam’s muggle father. He looked over at Rose after releasing Sam from his embrace and smiled warmly at her. His dark brown eyes sparkled, and Rose was struck by how very handsome he was with dark hair that curled in loose ringlets to his shoulders.

“You must be Rose,” he said, walking over and, before she could react, hugging her tightly. She could smell the warm scents of sandalwood and leather wafting off of some kind of oil in his beard and hair. After the embrace, he placed his hands on her shoulders, holding her at arm’s length, and examined her. “My you are a pretty one. Such lovely hair, and so tall!”

“Thank you, sir,” Rose said, taken slightly aback by his casual assessment of her. He was about the same height as her and the two easily locked eyes. He smiled welcomingly, and his grin was sincere and infectious.

“Please call me Alex, or Baba,” he told her kindly.

“Thank you, Alex,” Rose amended, and he released her.

“The two of you can put your things in Samira’s room, try your best to be quiet. I just got Kwesi down, and if the two of you wake him up, I’ll be forced to murder you both,” Alex said in a happy-go-lucky voice, but his eyes looked slightly manic. Rose shivered and did her best to silently follow Sam into her room.

“Who is Kwesi?” She asked in a whisper, and Sam laughed much too loudly for Rose’s comfort.

“Kwesi is my little brother.”

“You have a little brother?” Rose asked in shock.

“He’s a pretty recent addition to the family. Baba and dad started panicking a couple years ago when they realized I’d be out of the house soon and started looking for another baby. My biological aunt had an infant on the way, and they were able to arrange an adoption. Kwesi is cute as hell, you’ll meet him when he wakes up.” Rose digested this information with interest, setting her trunk down besides Sam’s bed. The room was tastefully decorated in a chic bohemian theme, the warm textures and bold jewel tones bringing an atmosphere of joy and comfort.

When the two emerged from Sam’s room, Alex had pulled his numerous rings off and tied a powder blue apron on. He quickly busied them with chopping onions and various vegetables while he tenderized and marinated slices of flank steak. Rose felt slow and clumsy as she chopped vegetables by hand but enjoyed the work. Alex had poured the three of them glasses of wine and was quite good at asking her and Samira questions about Hogwarts and their studies and future plans.

“That is a lovely ring you have there,” he observed after a while.

“Oh, thank you, it’s my engagement ring.” Rose answered. Alex nodded as if she hadn’t said something stupid and obvious.

“To be young and in love,” he sighed. “What’s the lucky person’s name?”

“Stefan Dolohov,” Rose answered, though in her mind she could only picture the kind face of Remus Lupin smiling back at her.

“You have to invite him to dinner tomorrow night after your appointment, we would just _love_ to meet him,” Alex gushed enthusiastically. “Samira has an owl you can use.”

An hour later, the door opened, and another man stepped into the flat. Rose was immediately impressed by the tall wizard in lime green healer’s robes. His skin was quite dark like Sam’s, and he stood even taller than Remus—Rose imagined he was close to 6’5”. His dark head was completely shaved and his brown eyes, though tired, were kind and warm. Rose could tell he was quite a bit older than Alex whom Rose had placed in his mid-thirties, but still cut a handsome figure.

“Something smells delicious,” the man said in a thick Ghanaian accent, sniffing the air appreciatively and embracing Sam in his arms as she ran to him. “Sweet girl, we missed you so much.”

“I missed you too daddy,” Sam said, dragging her father over to the large kitchen island. “Dad, this is Rose, Rose this is my dad.”

“Call me Ebo,” he said, his large hand engulfing hers when they shook.

“Nice to meet you,” she mumbled at the giant of a man before he wandered towards the bedrooms to get changed.

“Can you get Kwesi on your way back, honey? It’s about time for him to get up,” Alex called as he began applying the steaks to a cast iron skillet. Shortly after, a tired but smiling Ebo returned, carrying a yawning baby boy on his hip. Kwesi had wild caramel curls almost the same color as his skin and large dark eyes that looked around curiously. Ebo had changed into casual robes of a thin silken material and bold ethnic patterns of blue, green, and yellow. Wandering over to Alex, the two leaned towards one another for a quick kiss before Ebo bustled to the fridge to find Kwesi something to eat.

“Ama!” the tiny human exclaimed, lifting curling fingers towards Sam who grinned and snagged the tiny boy from Ebo’s arms, rubbing her nose against his affectionately.

“Hello Kwesi,” she said to the boy, setting him on her hip and walking over to Rose. “This is my friend Rose. She can be a brat sometime, but she’s alright.”

“Hey,” Rose objected with a smile but grinned foolishly at the beautiful baby who giggled back at her, a glob of drool dropping out of his cooing mouth. She waved at him, and Kwesi giggled at her, clapping his hands together.

“He likes you,” Sam told her, and Rose felt a rush of warmth at the statement, grinning—if possible—even more broadly.

“I like him too.” Rose said, extending a finger to Kwesi who grasped it with his entire hand. She stared at his tiny fingernails. “He’s so small.”

“Of course he’s small,” Sam laughed, “He’s a baby.”

“You said he’s your… cousin?”

“Well, my brother now, but we were adopted from the same family. Wizarding adoptions are a lot more common in Ghana than they are here.”

“So… he’s a wizard?”

“We won’t be sure until he’s older, but probably.”

“He’s beautiful, Sam.” Rose said, grinning at the giggling baby.

“You won’t say that when he gets angry. He can be a downright monster sometimes,” Sam said, making an exaggeratedly happy face at the boy. “Can’t you, you little demon!?”

“Don’t talk about your brother like that,” Alex called from the stove as Ebo poured himself a generous glass of brandy.

“Sorry Baba,” Sam said insincerely, and then, more quietly to Rose, “I can’t wait to have some of my own. I love kids.”

“Don’t you think you’re a bit young still?” Rose asked tentatively, and Sam shook her head.

“I’ve always wanted to be a mom. Ava said she’d wait to… you know, get the surgery done until after we have one of our own. We can always adopt if we want more, but I’d love to carry our baby.”

“That’s—that’s great Sam,” Rose said, unsure exactly how she felt. Rose knew she wanted children one day, but the knowledge that she’d soon be marrying Stefan Dolohov certainly dampened her maternal desire. She knew adoptions could be complicated in the wizarding world—she was a rare example. Would she and Stefan even be able to have children that the Dolohov’s and Malfoy’s would accept?

Sam placed her brother in a highchair at the table as the four settled down for dinner. Rose found herself falling in love with Sam’s family. Ebo and Alex were genuine and kind and had a wonderfully flirtatious manner with each other that made Rose’s heart sing. Ebo worked as a healer at St. Mungo’s and Alex was something called an ‘interior designer’—designing the homes of wealthy muggles. Dinner was delicious, and by the time Sam and Rose moved to Sam’s room for the night, Rose was feeling quite buzzed from the glasses of wine. When the two changed into pajamas, Sam poured them another glass and reclined in her bed, Rose climbing under the covers with her.

“Cheers,” Sam said as the two clinked glasses and took appreciative sips of the dry vintage.

"Your home is amazing, Sam, and I think I want to be your dads' best friend," Rose grinned at her.

“They are pretty awesome,” Sam told her with a laugh as she snuggled under her duvet. “Dad used to be a lot more serious and strict before he met Baba.”

“Oh, I thought they adopted you together.” Rose asked with interest, Sam didn’t often talk about her family with them at Hogwarts because of Mariko—and probably because of her own lineage as a Malfoy if Rose was completely honest.

“No, Dad met my Papa when he attended Uagadou the wizarding school in Africa. He moved here after Papa passed away.”

“I’m so sorry, Sam, I didn’t—”

“S’alright, I don’t really talk about him, honestly I don’t have any memories of him, only pictures, he died when I was two. I feel bad that I can’t remember him sometimes,” Sam picked up a small picture from her bedside table and showed it to Rose. In it, a man who looked rather like Ebo, only quite a bit thinner and slightly shorter, held an infant girl and was cooing at her happily. “That’s papa.”

“He looks like he loved you very much,” Rose said sincerely. “Can I ask…? How did he…?”

“He died from AIDS,” Sam said, placing the picture back on the table. “That was back before healers had discovered a cure. Dad says so many people were dying of it back then it was terrifying. I think both he and Baba lost a lot of friends because of it.”

“That’s awful,” Rose said, sipping her wine quietly. She had of course heard of the AIDS crisis but hadn’t known anyone affected by it.

“Dad’s been a really big supporter of legislation that would let healers treat muggles because of it, he says that as healers their job is to heal the sick no matter who it is.” Sam told her, and Rose said nothing to this, she wasn’t sure how she felt about that idea. It was something she knew her parents would highly disapprove of.

“How did Ebo and Alex meet?”

“Well, we moved here when I was five after dad was offered a position at St. Mungo’s, and we moved into the same apartment complex as Baba—he’d just graduated university, that’s like N.E.W.T.s level studies for muggles that they do when they’re older. The way dad tells it, Baba wouldn’t leave him alone. Baba says it was love at first sight of course.”

“That’s so sweet,” Rose said with a smile.

“But we aren’t supposed to spend the night talking about them," Sam diverted the conversation, sending Rose a mischievous grin. “Now, you promised to tell me all the dirty details concerning a certain professor of ours.”

“There isn’t much to tell,” Rose said blushing fiercely, and Sam sipped her wine with raised eyebrows.

“Rose, you can be a terrible liar sometimes.”

“I find Lupin very sexy,” Rose admitted with a shrug. “What more do you want me to say.”

“Oh, come on, last year you said you wanted to shove Snape down on his desk and take him right there. What’s made you so shy?”

“I’m not shy, there just isn’t much to tell. I work with him a lot closer than Snape; it feels weird to think of him like that.” Rose mumbled into her glass. Sam narrowed her eyes calculatingly, taking in the blush on her friend’s cheeks and the way she avoided meeting her eyes.

“Oh. My. God.” Sam said with a gasp.

“What?” Rose asked shrilly.

“You’ve slept with him, haven’t you?”

“No!” Rose protested.

“You’ve snogged him?”

“ _No_.”

“Merlin, you have!”

“No, I haven’t, I really haven’t.” Rose protested in panic while Sam laughed heartily.

“You kissed Remus fucking Lupin.”

“No,” Rose said again weakly. Sam raised her eyebrows disbelievingly.

“Is that really the story you’re going to stick with?”

“You can’t tell anyone.”

“Oh my wizard god,” Sam cackled, snorting into her wine.

“Shut-up, Sam.”

“Was he any good? Tell me everything.”

That was how Rose found herself divulging her most closely guarded secret to one of her best friends over the course of an hour. She carefully avoided any mention of Remus’ condition or her own previous relationship with Snape, but she didn’t skimp on any of the details. In many ways it was a relief to be found out by someone who knew her so well.

“And he just grabbed you like that? That is so _hot_ ,” Sam squealed excitedly as Rose recounted their most recent encounter to her.

“I know,” Rose sighed, staring into space. “I’m still kind of pissed about it though.”

“Rose,” Sam breathed. “I will never forgive you if you don’t fuck him.”

“I’m trying my best,” Rose laughed. Sam smiled at her and smoothed her hair back from her face affectionately.

“My sweet, stupid, friend. How are you going to marry Stefan when you’re in love with Lupin?”

“I’m not in love with him,” Rose protested, and Sam smiled sadly at her, shaking her head.

“Whatever you say.”

“Don’t tell Mariko.” Rose emphasized, knowing that asking her not to tell Ava was a losing battle.

“Mari? Are you kidding? Fuck that bitch. I love her, but fuck. that. bitch. I wouldn’t do that to you Rose, she cannot keep a secret.” Sam reassured her, and a knot of tension released in Rose’s stomach. Rose finished her wine and set her glass to the side, leaning her head on Sam’s shoulder as she yawned.

“What am I going to do Sam?” Rose asked, her voice catching slightly in her throat. Sam draped her arm around Rose, pulling her close to her chest and holding her tightly.

“You’re going to be fine. I promise.”

The next morning, Ebo provided the pair of them with pepper-up potion for their hangovers, observing the two unsympathetically. Rose enjoyed helping feed baby Kwesi off a ridiculously small spoon before getting ready. She had brought simple black dress robes and tied her hair up into a high ponytail, applying a minimal amount of neutral colored make-up. Sam, who didn't plan on going into the lab with her was wearing casual muggle attire. After another stressful ride down in the elevator, the two emerged onto the bustling streets of London. Sam took her hand and dragged Rose through the crowd keeping them from being separated by the simple expedient of glaring down any large man who dared try to walk between the pair of them. After a short walk, they wound up outside of a run down looking shop with cracked glass in the display window.

"This is it?" Rose asked.

"This is it," Sam confirmed, squeezing her hand supportively. Rose took a deep calming breath and threw her shoulders back, lifting her chin confidently. Tucking her folder of paperwork beneath her arm, she stepped forward with a rapidly pounding heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe we're at 30 chapters already! Cheers!


	31. Chapter 31

_“It’s in the reach of my arms,  
The span of my hips,   
The stride of my step,   
The curl of my lips.   
I’m a woman  
Phenomenally.  
Phenomenal woman,   
That’s me.”_

\- Maya Angelou [Phenomenal Woman]

Rose walked through the cracked glass as Stefan’s instructions had told her and emerged into a clean bright waiting room. A handful of witches and one or two wizards sat around in chairs that lined the walls of the office. Most were reading _T_ _he_ _Daily Prophet_ or other various magazines and newspapers on the end tables around the room. Rose looked up at the receptionist’s desk which had a sleek metal sign out of which were cut the words: “ _Just Like Magic_ ”. For a moment, Rose was worried she was at the wrong place but stepped up to the desk anyways. The blonde receptionist looked up at her expectantly with her large blue eyes, and Rose couldn’t help feeling intimidated by how beautiful she was.

“How can I help you,” the woman asked with a tilt of her head that made Rose’s heart flutter slightly. ‘ _Merlin, even her voice in beautiful_.’

“I’m here for a tour of Angevin Labs, my name is Rose Malfoy,” Rose responded, trying to sound confident rather than nervous. The woman smiled at her broadly.

“Welcome, Miss Malfoy! We’ve been expecting you. Let me page Damien now,” she quickly scribbled a note on a piece of paper and after tapping it with her wand, which she held with a perfectly manicured hand, the page folded itself into a small paper plane and took off down the hallway behind her. “You can wait in one of those seats, can I get you water, tea, coffee?”

“No thank you,” Rose said, stepping back from the desk and sitting in the first seat she stumbled across. She tried very hard not to fidget too much in her seat while she waited. It wasn’t long before a small paper airplane came zooming up from around the corridor and landed gently on the receptionist’s desk.

“Miss Malfoy, you can head back now,” she said. “His office is all the way at the end on the left.”

“Thank you,” Rose said politely, standing and walking quickly down the hallway. ‘ _I can do this_ ,’ she thought to herself as she knocked lightly on the door.

“Come in,” he called, and Rose quickly slid into his office. Rose took in the contents of the room quickly—the walls were covered in various plaques and accolades, a Gryffindor lion prowled around haughtily in one frame and gave Rose a skeptical look, and a large bookshelf covered the space behind his desk. By the time her eyes landed on him, Damien was already standing from behind his desk and walking towards her with his hand extended. Rose eagerly shook hands, putting on her best smile. Damien gave her a small smile back that didn’t quite meet his clear blue eyes.

“Thank you so much for having me Mr. Angevin.”

“Damien is fine,” he told her. “It was Rose, correct?”

“That’s right,” she said.

“Rose, let me be honest with you from the start, I agreed to this tour because Stefan has been pestering me about it since October. Apprenticeship opportunities here are highly sought after so don’t expect me to give you one just because you happen to come from an influential family.” Rose was a bit taken aback by his brusqueness and swallowed thickly, nodding her head rapidly. The smile he gave her in response was blatantly condescending, and she could feel her temper flaring.

“I think you’ll find I’m more than capable of any task you’d wish to give me. I excel when I’m challenged, and my academic performance speaks for itself. I am the eighth animagus this century, so don’t underestimate me. I’m not just a name or a pretty face.” Rose snapped at him, lifting her chin imperiously.

“Well, the snake has fangs,” Damien chuckled, obviously amused that he’d provoked her ire. “We’ll see little snake, we’ll see. For now, keep your fangs to yourself and follow me.”

Rose blushed following her outburst but didn’t regret it. As they walked out together, Damien told her more about the labs.

“You came in through the JLM clinic of course. That’s really where we make our profits, fund our research, and gain many of our financial donors. It’s not glamorous but it keeps the lights on. All of our apprentices are expected to work in the clinic three days a week.”

“What do you do there?” Rose asked politely.

“Simple cosmetic transfigurations. Witches, and wizards too I suppose, will pay through the nose for teeth straightening, skin smoothing, cheekbone enhancing, breast lifting treatments—that kind of thing. And it’s a great way to stay sharp on your human transfiguration skills.”

"Oh, that explains..." Rose trailed off, realizing her comment was rather rude. Damien raised his eyebrows at her and Rose flushed. "It's just... your secretary, she's quite..."

"Celia?" Damien began to laugh. "No, no, Celia is about an eighth veela on her mother's side, but don't tell anyone, it's quite good for business."

“Stefan said you work with St. Mungo’s healers at times,” Rose recalled, wanting to change the subject as soon as possible. He nodded.

“Yes, usually their healers are more than capable, but sometimes they’ll call us in as specialists. Everyone here has on call shifts with them one week or so a month in case of emergencies. We don’t get called in a lot, but when we do it’s usually pretty gruesome.” Damien held the door open for her, and they walked into a large open room covered in various tools, charts, ingredients, cauldrons, and other random items Rose couldn’t identify. A couple of people were working in crimson robes that matched Damien’s, their heads bent low over their workstations.

“This place is incredible,” Rose said gaping in wonder. Damien smiled his first genuine smile at this, obviously pleased with himself.

“I’m rather proud of it,” he said. “Now, I can’t explain everything we’re doing here as it’s ongoing research and some of it is highly classified, especially any work we do with the ministry. I can tell you that each of my apprentices is encouraged to choose their own area of interest and is given equipment and funding. We also like to promote collaboration between apprentices.”

“Morning Damien,” a short middle-aged woman with sandy blonde hair called to them when they passed her table.

“Morning Vic,” he replied. Rose looked at the goggles she was wearing and the strange glass equipment in front of her and paused.

“Is that a muggle chemistry set?” Rose asked curiously and the older woman nodded.

“It sure is, I’m a chemist professionally, I just do some work here with Damien on occasion.”

“Are you... a muggle?” Rose inquired cautiously. She could tell Damien was paying very close attention to her now, and she was doing her best to keep her face friendly and her tone of voice neutral.

“Sure am,” Vic answered, her grin widening at Rose’s evident confusion. “My son is a wizard; he and Damien were close friends at Hogwarts. Damien invites me into the lab whenever he and his kiddos are feeling a bit over their heads.”

“Vic always sets us straight,” Damien laughed and then, turning to Rose, gave her a better explanation. “Our work here often overlaps with alchemy. I’ve found the aspect of alchemy wizards struggle with the most tend to be bits that include muggle chemistry. Having someone who knows what that’s all about has been incredibly helpful.”

“It’s nothing as exciting as what these kids can do,” Vic said with a smile, patting Damien’s hand affectionately.

“Speaking of exciting—I just learned that Rose here has accomplished the animagus transformation, would anyone else like to see?” Damien called to the couple other people in his lab who looked over with interest. Rose blushed furiously at the attention, and he seemed quite pleased by her discomfort. Damien raised his eyebrows at her expectantly. “Go on.”

Rose swallowed thickly and pulled out her wand, keenly aware that McGonagall had not yet given her permission to do this without her present. ' _As if I'm going to tell Damien Angevin that_.' Tapping her wand to her heart, Rose recited the incantation softly and felt her body grow warm and compress. Though the initial transformation had been painful, all her subsequent ones had been fairly pleasant. It was as if she was learning to flex a newly acquired muscle. Vic’s eyes had grew wide as Rose shrank into a fox and her wand clattered to the floor. Taking a deep breath, Rose knew that changing back into a human was the tricky part. Especially given the use of her wand, what Rose had just done looked like any witch or wizard transfiguring themselves into an animal. Closing her eyes, Rose focused on her human body. When she opened them again it was with immense relief that she found herself looking out of human eyes and that she was also standing rather than crouched on the ground like an idiot. Stretching her hand out, her fallen wand flew back into it.

“That was very impressive dear,” Vic told her, eliciting a smile from Rose. She even received a small smattering of applause from the others.

“You still have to use a wand to transform?” Damien asked.

“I’m working on it. It only just happened,” Rose grumbled, shooting him a look.

“Don’t take him too seriously, dear, he likes to put on airs from time to time, but he’s quite a sweetie once you get to know him.” The rest of the apprentices snickered at this comment from Vic, and Damien sighed dramatically.

“Alright, alright. Back to work you lot.”

After walking through the rest of the lab, they returned to his office. Rose sat in a chair across from him nervously while he flipped open the folder containing her application. She felt quite jittery as he opened the sealed reference from Severus Snape, his eyes flicking across it quickly.

“Snape speaks well of you, but I’d expect nothing less, he’s always favored Slytherins.”

Rose had to bite her tongue from objecting to this. If only Damien knew how worried she’d been about the contents of that recommendation. She should have asked Professor Sprout for one after all, of course Damien Angevin didn’t like Snape—he’d been in Gryffindor. ‘ _Damnit Severus don’t ruin this for me,_ ’ she thought hotly. Damien moved on to the letter from McGonagall and his eyebrows lifted as he read.

“It’s not often I get a reference from McGonagall, and rarely one this complimentary,” he said. Rose itched to know exactly what Minerva McGonagall had written about her. Damien flicked over her academic record next, nodding at what he saw. “Top marks, prefect, head girl, nine O.W.Ls—very nice, I did ten myself. Eight outstandings and one exceeds expectations in charms…. Pursuing six, no, five, N.E.W.T.s… interesting choice to drop potions after your sixth year.”

“It seemed redundant since I was taking alchemy and it wasn’t my area of interest,” Rose said quickly, hoping this would justify her decision. She certainly couldn’t say that she’d been sleeping with the Potion’s Master and was mildly terrified of dealing with his potion’s classes for a whole year after she’d broken things off with him.

“I didn’t take potions to the N.E.W.T.s level either—couldn’t stand Professor Snape.” As Damien flicked to the next item of her application, Rose hurried to explain.

“ _Transfiguration Today_ has accepted a perspective piece on my animagus transformation to be published in the April edition,” Rose said quickly as Damien’s eyes flickered across the page and then up to her.

“This is a rejection letter,” he said coolly, holding it up between two fingers.

“Yes, that was for the article I originally submitted—”

“My application guidelines are quite clear that I require a published article. I’ll be happy to accept your completed ‘ _perspective piece_ ’ pending its publication.” It was obvious that he thought as highly of an anecdotal perspective paper as Rose did.

“I don’t want to submit that article to you, I want to submit the original one,” Rose said hotly, annoyed that he wasn’t listening to her. His eyebrows shot towards his hairline.

“The one they rejected?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because it is a good article, thoroughly researched, well-written, with a persuasive argument and conclusion—”

“If you don’t say so yourself.”

“I _do_ say so myself,” Rose snapped at him irritably. A grin tugged at the corner of his lips.

“They clearly didn’t agree with you.”

“They didn’t publish it because it was on lycanthropy, and they didn’t want an article about werewolves running in their well-to-do paper.”

“How droll; a Malfoy accusing someone else of being prejudiced,” Damien goaded her, but Rose didn’t take the bait this time and just sat quietly staring him down. After a moment, he sighed. “Lycanthropy, hmm? I’ll look it over. But I still want the published article when it comes out.”

“Fine,” Rose agreed instantly.

“I won’t be giving you an answer until I have all the pieces. I’ve given my applicants until late April to submit everything to me, so don’t expect to hear anything until the end of May or even early June—even then any acceptance is pending final N.E.W.T.s scores.”

“Alright,” Rose acknowledged, looking at her lap anxiously, maybe she shouldn’t have put the lycanthropy article in her application. Had she hurt her chances by doing so? She glanced up when Damien began to chuckle.

“Don’t worry yourself overmuch little snake, you’re off to a much better start than I ever imagined.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couple things, I was silly and forgot I wanted to get into a bit of Alex and Ebo's backstory last chapter, so if you read it before this morning on 11/19/20, I added a short additional section in the middle if you care to go reread it. Sorry, won't be doing that often. Next, I did change the title, hope that doesn't mess anyone up. Lastly, I can't believe how many chapters this story is at already! Just over a month ago, I went into this thinking there would be about 40 chapters, and we are getting close, guys! Plus I already have a good idea of what I want to do for Part 2, thanks for all the comments and kudos!


	32. Chapter 32

_“See the mountains kiss high heaven  
And the waves clasp one another;  
No sister-flower would be forgiven  
If it disdained its brother;  
And the sunlight clasps the earth  
And the moonbeams kiss the sea:  
What is all this sweet work worth  
If thou kiss not me?”_

\- Percy Shelley [Love’s Philosophy]

Rose and Sam climbed aboard the Hogwarts Express, waving goodbye to Alex, Ebo, and the babbling Kwesi. Stefan had sent his apologies via owl for being unable to meet up with her over the weekend. He said that work had been especially busy. Rose privately thought that he had been too intimidated by the idea of spending time around an out and happy gay couple. This time climbing aboard the Hogwarts Express was not as nostalgic as it had been upon returning for Christmas. Far fewer students had gone home for Easter, and Rose didn’t have her family here with her.

“Hey Rose, I think I’m going to grab a compartment with some Hufflepuff friends,” Sam said as they walked through the corridor. Rose was taken aback at this, before she caught the subtle head tilt Sam was giving her.

“Oh,” Rose breathed when she saw what Sam was indicating. “Um, yeah, sure, I’ll see you at Hogwarts.”

‘ _Plus twenty best friend points to Sam_ ,’ Rose thought to herself as she slid the compartment door open, and smiled at a particularly weary looking Remus Lupin.

“Do you mind if I sit with you, Professor?” She asked with a smile, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, the tired smile he gave in return melting her heart.

“Please,” he answered easily. Rose moved inside of the compartment and bent to lift her trunk up into the overhead storage, but Remus had already stood up and put his hand on the trunk. With a grunt he hefted it over his head and settled it in place. Rose didn’t miss the wince that crossed his face as he did so. When they sat down across from each other, she took a moment to study his face. He looked pale. The scars on his face stood out starkly and the dark circles beneath his eyes were quite prominent.

“Are you alright?” Rose asked lamely, knowing he probably wasn’t. Despite his tiredness, his blue eyes still made her heartbeat quicken when he smiled.

“It was a… long night,” he said eventually. Rose nodded, remembering when he’d told her that some moons were worse than others.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but why are you here?” Rose asked, eliciting a soft chuckle from the pale Lupin.

“I went home to check on things, make sure the house hadn’t fallen over, that kind of thing.” He said.

“And had it?” Rose teased.

“Not yet,” Lupin chuckled. “I was pleasantly surprised. It’s not in the best shape.”

“Is it an old house?” Rose asked curiously.

“Yes, my grandmother’s. We moved there after I was… well, after it happened.”

“Where is it?”

“Yorkshire.”

“ _Yorkshire_?” She asked incredulously. “You went home to Yorkshire, and then you came all the way south to London to take the train back to Scotland? Why on earth didn’t you just apparate there instead of coming down here?”

“Well… I thought that if I took the train back, I might get to see you,” he said, his blue eyes never leaving her own. Rose flushed bright red, and Lupin grinned at her. “That was the reaction I was hoping for.”

Rose put her hands to her face, hoping to hide her flushed cheeks, but it only made him laugh.

“I would have seen you in a few hours at dinner,” Rose mumbled.

“I didn’t want to wait that long,” Remus shrugged unapologetically. “Besides, riding the train is a bit of a novelty. I don’t get to do it very often. How did your tour go?”

“The lab was incredible,” Rose answered, grabbing the conversational lifeline he was throwing her. She hoped her blush would fade quickly. “I’m not sure Angevin likes me very much though, he’s a typical Gryffindor.”

“That is a difficult rivalry to unlearn,” Remus chuckled good-naturedly. “I’m sure you’ll get along eventually. Gryffindors aren’t all bad.”

“No, I suppose not. There’s at least one I’m quite fond of.”

“I’ll try not to be too jealous,” he joked back.

The pair lapsed into a comfortable silence for the next couple of hours with Remus occasionally dozing off as he leaned his head against the window, and Rose enjoying reading from her small book of poetry. The trolly witch came by and the two waved her on. The sun sank behind a cloudbank just over the horizon, and the sky began to darken. As Lupin’s chin dropped onto his chest, once again causing him to wake with a start, Rose scootched close to the window and flicked her wand at the curtain to cover the compartment door.

“That looks uncomfortable,” she told him and gestured to her lap invitingly.

“Rose…” Lupin said cautiously, glancing at the compartment door. “I’m not sure that’s the best idea.”

“You traveled all the way from Yorkshire to London just to sit across the compartment from me?” She teased him, eliciting a small smile. Slowly Remus stood up and moved to her side of the cabin, sitting down, laying his head on her lap, and curling his legs up on the seat. Lupin laid one hand on her thigh, rubbing his thumb in slow circles against her skin. He smiled at the goosebumps this created and with a yawn, closed his eyes. Rose brushed the hair out of his eyes, dragging her fingertips gently and lazily across his scalp. She spent a few minutes trying to memorize each line of his face, each scar on his cheek, each hair on his head. The affection she felt for him was almost overwhelming.

“You are breathtaking,” she said, and Lupin cracked an eye to look at her skeptically.

“I think you mean beat up or broken down,” he grinned and from this close she could see the exact way the corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled.

“Beautiful,” she corrected.

“Beastly.”

“Handsome.”

“Horrid.”

“Stupid man,” she grumped.

“That too,” he yawned, and she clicked her tongue disapprovingly.

“Go to sleep,” she commanded, and he did. Rose found herself nodding off as well, her chin propped against one hand, her other hand still playing with his hair. When she finally awoke, they were nearly there, the mountains around them beginning to look familiar.

“Remus,” she called, gently shaking his shoulder. He awoke with a soft snort that Rose found ridiculously adorable and sat up blinking sleepily. With another yawn he rubbed his eyes to rid them of sleep. His hair fell into his tired eyes again, and, unable to help herself, she leaned in and pressed her lips to his. When she pulled away, he looked much more awake and the wide boyish grin she so adored was fixed to his face.

“Well, I’d like to wake up to that more often,” he grinned.

“You _could_ wake up to that more often,” she said pointedly. “Do you think… do you think I could come visit you in Yorkshire sometime?”

Rose saw about four different emotions—most of them negative ones—flicker across his face in an instant. She sat back in surprise at the unexpected reaction, feeling her stomach tighten uncomfortably. Lupin opened his mouth and closed it again, and Rose quickly stood up as the train slowed down.

“Sorry to bring it up, I didn’t realize it was such an appalling idea.” Rose tried to keep her voice even, but it cracked at the end.

“Rose, wait—” Lupin said, but she’d already slammed the compartment door behind her.

Remus dragged a hand down his face in irritation. He was too tired for this right now. His body was still recovering from his recent transformation, his joints ached, and phantom pains still shot through his muscles at random moments. By the time he’d managed to get off the train, Rose was nowhere to be seen. Remus sighed and pulled his aching body onto a carriage for the trip up to the castle simmering in frustration. Rose’s tendency to jump to conclusions was a trait that often served her well in her decision making and was the sign of a quick wit and sharp mind—two things he adored about her, but at the moment he found it aggravating.

How could he explain to a girl who had grown up living in the lap of luxury that he would be mortified to bring her to the small ramshackle cottage he called home in the Yorkshire countryside? How could he express that the idea of waking up in his bed to find her beside him was both a thought that set his body on fire and simultaneously terrified him? He hadn’t been intimate with someone in a long time, and he hadn’t been emotionally intimate with someone in even longer. When she had made it clear she wanted to see him after the schoolyear ended it had filled him with an excitement he couldn’t express. But he knew that he was setting himself up to be hurt again.

Rose had made it quite clear that she was going to marry Stefan Dolohov—the handsome young man with the expensive robes who could give her a home and a family that she deserved. And even if she wasn’t going to, what did he have to offer her, really? Ridicule and derision from her loved ones and society? Remus had lost so much, and he knew that the longer he let this go on the more it was going to hurt when he finally lost her too. Part of him just couldn’t do the smart thing and let go. She kept drawing him in. Drawing him to her with her eyes and her smile—with her wit and her intellect and her passion. And he kept telling himself that he’d give it one more day, one more touch, one more kiss, just one more moment. It was too soon to end it, his heart kept telling him. Not yet, not yet, not yet. It would end on its own in just a couple months anyways. She would graduate and get married and forget all about him, and he’d be left alone once again.

Rose sat in the carriage with Sam and the other Hufflepuffs quietly watching the thestrals pull them up to the castle. She could feel the panic welling up inside her. She had been so sure that Lupin genuinely cared for her, but his reaction to her asking to continue seeing him seemed to imply otherwise. Had Rose been setting herself up to be used once again? Almost given her heart away to a man who didn’t really love her back? She remembered how badly it had hurt when Snape had called her by Lily’s name instead of her own—remembered how it _still_ hurt. Had she just leapt from one bad decision into another without thinking twice? Rose shook her head. Surely the Remus Lupin she had gotten to know over the past year wasn’t like that. Surely the passionate look she had seen in his eyes so many times wasn’t a cover for a lie. But Rose had known Severus Snape almost her whole life, had never imagined that he might feel anything but the same deep love she felt for him, and had been very very wrong. Could her heart take being hurt like that again?

Rose’s mood was not improved when she arrived at the school to find three irate looking Gryffindors standing in the entrance hall waiting for her. With a sigh, Rose leveled a glare at Harry Potter and his three friends.

“What do you three want?” She asked, not in the mood for this.

“We were hoping you could talk to your father for us,” Hermione spoke up politely before the boys could say anything.

“My… father?” Rose repeated in confusion. “Why on earth—”

“Because that scumbag of a human being just convinced the Ministry to execute Buckbeak,” Harry interjected hotly.

“Don’t talk about my dad like that, Potter,” Rose snapped. Harry opened his mouth to argue back, but Hermione elbowed him in the side.

“ _Harry_ ,” Hermione reprimanded her friend before turning back to Rose. “Please, if you could just talk to him, maybe the committee will change its mind during the appeal.”

“Can we start from the beginning? I’m a bit lost. What the hell is a Buckbeak?” Rose asked

“Buckbeak is the hippogriff your git brother provoked after Hagrid specifically told us not to,” Ron Weasley told her.

“Yeah, or did you forget him pretending to have a broken arm for three months?” Harry added derisively. Rose sighed heavily. Of course this was a Draco thing. She should have known it was going to come back to haunt her.

“Look, I don’t know what you want me to do.”

“Can’t you talk to Lucius? Please?” Hermione repeated. “Hagrid is distraught, and Buckbeak really isn’t dangerous.”

“Can’t Hagrid just… find a new pet?” Rose asked lamely, feeling guilty as she thought of the giant of a man who had helped her so much.

“I told you she wouldn’t help us, Hermione,” Harry said, crossing his arms moodily. Rose rolled her eyes at him.

“Merlin save me from the ire of thirteen-year-old boys,” Rose sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Listen, lion cubs, Lucius Malfoy is not a man who goes back on something once he’s made a decision. But I do owe Hagrid. I’ll try.”

“Really?” Harry asked skeptically.

“Don’t expect much, but, yeah, I’ll do it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Those who were predicting the return of angst... were correct. Kudos, comment, bookmark!


	33. Chapter 33

_“I loved you; and perhaps I love you still,  
The flame is not extinguished; yet  
It burns so quietly within my soul,  
No longer should you feel distressed by it.  
Silently and hopelessly I loved you,  
At times too jealous and at times too shy.  
God grant you find another who will love you  
As tenderly and truthfully as I.”_

\- Alexander Pushkin [I Loved You]

‘ _I really don’t want to do this_ ,’ Rose thought to herself as she hesitated outside of his chamber door. ‘ _Maybe he won’t be there_ ,’ she hoped, but she knew he didn’t have classes this morning and it’s not like he was the most social of persons. Tentatively she lifted a hand and knocked, her heart pounding nervously. Her breath caught in her throat when she heard movement on the other side of his door. It was yanked open and the sneer on his face quickly dissolved into an emotionless mask.

“Miss Malfoy,” Severus Snape looked down at her with dark calculating eyes. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I was wondering if you would help me write a letter… sir,” she asked politely, adding the honorific at the last moment and smiling shyly because she knew it would improve her chances. Severus raised an eyebrow at her, and when she saw the brief flash of amusement in his face, she knew she’d been victorious.

He pushed the door open wider, and Rose ducked under his arm and walked inside. The room had the same basic set-up as Lupin’s only with the layout reversed. The decoration choices tended towards dark cold colors rather than the warm and inviting ones she’d instructed the elves to use in Lupin’s office. Snape had not put a fire on this morning and instead had dark curtains drawn back enough to illuminate the room. Rose slammed the mental door against the flood of memories of things she and Severus had done in this room—and especially in the room just beyond this one—that were trying to crowd into her mind. She had been resolutely ignoring those memories during the year with moderate levels of success—likely due to her fixation on Remus Lupin—and she was not going to relive them now. Instead she perched nervously on the far end of his couch, and Snape leaned back against the other end, observing her with a lazy curiosity. He was clothed in casual black robes and his hair was still looking tousled as if he had only recently woken up.

“As flattering as your attentions are,” Snape drawled at her, eliciting a soft blush from Rose, “Didn’t you want something?”

“Yes,” Rose said instantly, “I was trying to write a letter to my father and was hoping you’d read it over before I sent it.”

“Me?” He asked with raised eyebrows.

“I—well, you see—I’m asking him for something that he’s not going to be happy about.”

“And what request would Lucius Malfoy possibly deny his darling little girl?” Snape inquired in a bored drawl. Rose smiled wryly at this. They both knew that Lucius had a tendency to spoil her rotten.

“I’m asking him to stay Buckbeak’s execution,” Rose said, trying to sound confident rather than embarrassed. Snape looked at her blankly. “You know… Hagrid’s hippogriff. The one that attacked Draco.”

Snape stared for a long moment before beginning to laugh scornfully. Rose’s glare was icy.

“I’m serious,” she snarled.

“I can see that.” he replied with a roll of his eyes. “I didn’t realize you’d begun to feel so _sisterly_ towards mister Potter.”

“Without Hagrid’s help I wouldn’t have achieved my animagus transformation. I owe him, it’s that simple.” Rose said with a stern expression. Based on the look he gave her Snape clearly didn’t believe this.

“It’s a lost cause.” Severus declared flippantly, “Tell Potter to move on.”

Rose fumed silently for a moment before trying for a different tactic. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear she scooched ever so slightly closer to him and tilting her head cutely to one side. She saw how his eyes darkened at her shift in attitude and knew that Lucius Malfoy wasn’t the only one she had wrapped around her finger. “Please Professor? You’re so very clever, and you’ve been friends with him for such a long time. Surely you’d know how to ask to get what you want.”

“Why do you assume I will fall for such cheap flattery,” he asked in his bored voice, but Rose knew better and scooted closer looking up at him from beneath long lashes.

“Well… it’s always worked before,” She grinned teasingly at him, and he scoffed at this. Leaning forward he took her chin in his hand and brought their faces close together—the light in his eyes glinting perilously.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, girl. Don’t start something you won’t finish,” he said firmly, and Rose felt mild panic at her racing heartbeat. Releasing her chin, Snape settled back into his spot and looked at her expectantly. “Where is this letter?”

Rose tried to calm her breathing while she reached into her robes and pulled out the letter she’d spent the last few days trying to write. Handing it to him, she watched his impassive expression carefully while he read over it. His gaze flicked quickly from side to side, his face intent. She’d always loved the way he looked with that expression of intense focus on his face. Rose had to glance away after a moment, her chest feeling hollow and achy. ‘ _Stupid emotions_ ,’ she thought to herself grumpily.

Rose had always been good at taking the feelings or doubts she didn’t want to bother with and burying them in the furthest corners of her mind. It was this tendency that could lead to her being reckless in one moment and calculating and ruthless in another. She’d done this after discovering Lupin was a werewolf, she’d done it with her engagement to Stefan, she’d done it when she’d met Alex and Vic—her first encounter with two muggles, she’d done it with her fears around being discovered with Lupin, and she was currently doing it with her sadness that he might not care for her. Rose had spent the whole summer burying each and every memory of her whirlwind romance with Severus Snape, but sometimes they still slipped through the cracks. ‘ _This was my decision_ ,’ she reminded herself sternly. ‘ _I’m the one who ended it_.’

“What do you think?” she asked, just for something to break the silence.

“I think it’s quite good,” he said, and Rose locked eyes with him in surprise.

“Really?” she asked hopefully.

“Yes—it will be quite good at getting Lucius Malfoy angry at you,” Snape sneered at her.

“You can be such a—” Rose began, but he held up a hand to silence her, clearly amused. Merlin, he loved baiting her into getting angry, and she hated how good he was at it. He always knew exactly how to rile her up.

“Have you learned nothing of subtlety or persuasion in all these years in my House?” He asked with a mocking expression. Rose, who considered herself to be rather good at this tried not to grumble.

“I didn’t just come out and ask him to save Buckbeak. I told him how Hagrid helped me and how poorly it would reflect on me if someone who helped me was treated like this by our family.” Rose argued irritably.

“A good start, but your efforts are _misdirected_.”

“Misdirected?”

“One of the only people I’ve ever met who can persuade Lucius Malfoy to do something—someone who’s honed her skills over years of practice—is not you, it’s Narcissa.” Snape explained as if this was a classroom lecture. Rose’s eyes widened in comprehension.

“You’re saying I should be writing my mother?”

“No, you silly girl, I’m saying you should _talk_ to your mother—preferably when she’s in a good mood and feeling especially doting.” He sneered. Rose flushed and nodded in understanding. She could think of one particular activity that would put her mom in exactly the right mindset to grant her anything she asked.

“Is there anything else?”

“Lucius Malfoy will never go back on a decision,” Severus told her, and Rose rolled her eyes.

“Thank you, I knew that.” She muttered under her breath.

“Silence Roselin,” he snapped at her sternly. Rose bit her tongue, and he leaned forward, carefully emphasizing each word as he stared into her eyes. “Lucius Malfoy will never go back on a decision. Narcissa knows this as well. So, the challenge for you is to phrase your request in a way that doesn’t _require_ him to. Ask him to grow bored with the trial, to forget his grudge against the beast, to back off whatever pressure he is putting on the committee members, to _not attend the appeal_. That is your best-case scenario.”

“I understand,” she said, the gears turning in her mind as she considered his words. Snape gave her a look that clearly communicated ‘ _finally’,_ but he didn’t express this aloud for which she was extremely grateful.

“Is there anything else?”

“No, that’s all I wanted,” Rose said, standing hastily. Severus stood as well, and she realized they were quite a bit closer than she was comfortable with—being within arms reach of the man had proven her downfall before.

“What I don’t understand is why you are bothering with this in the first place. Had Hagrid not been the one to escort you through the forest someone else would have. The Rose Malfoy from a year ago would have brushed the matter aside with ease.”

“I—it just… it seemed like the right thing to do,” Rose said helplessly, knowing he was right. Severus tilted his head at her, a faraway look in his eyes as he brushed a strand of hair behind her shoulder. Rose’s stomach clenched—she knew exactly what he was thinking about when he gave her that look and it wasn’t her.

“Is it something she would have done? …Lily?” Rose asked, trying to keep her frustration out of her voice. Snape dropped his hand from her hair, his emotions hidden once again behind a careful mask. Rose wished she could read his feelings as easily as she could read Lupin’s but exactly what he was thinking while he looked at her she couldn’t decide.

“Yes,” he said after a long silence. And then, “But you’ve never been much like her—just looked like her.”

“Was it always about—was there ever a time—did you ever… did you ever really love me for me?” Rose felt the questions she’d been wondering for a year spill out of her with an intensity she hadn’t expected. Snape’s dark eyes were completely impassive, and she could see the calculating gleam to them.

‘ _Say yes, please say yes_ ,’ the traitorous part of her heart begged. Between her recent fears over Lupin’s feelings for her and her impending passionless marriage, Rose desperately wanted to know that someone loved her. But if he did say yes, what then? What would she do?

Snape looked straight into her eyes and his lips slowly parted, uttering one crushing syllable, “No.”

Rose felt like he’d stabbed her in the chest. She swallowed a few times in rapid succession, her mouth suddenly dry as she struggled to breathe. She blinked rapidly against suddenly wet eyes but did not let one tear slip down her cheek. When she managed to look back at his face, she saw the barest flicker of pain there and it made her stomach churn with anger.

“Severus Snape, you are a liar,” she hissed at him before spinning and running from the room.

Snape was left alone in the empty room, his jaw clenched and his knuckles white from how tightly his hands were balled into fists.

‘ _What did the infuriating girl want him to say_.’

She had been the one who left him after all, or had she forgotten? Some days Severus asked himself the same questions she had, and he didn’t know the answer. When Rose had grown into a young woman, she’d begun looking so much like the woman he loved and lost that it was physically painful to look at her. When she had begun to show an interest in him it had been so hard to resist, and he’d ultimately failed in the self-discipline he’d always prided himself on.

And he had lied to her—Rose was often very much like Lily—her joyful smile, her stubbornness, her fiery temper when pushed too far, her uncanny ability to know what he was thinking, and the audacity to call him out on his bullshit. All of these things overwhelmed him with memories from long ago. At other times Rose’s arrogance and recklessness and know-it-all attitude reminded him so much of James Potter that he almost hated her. Had he ever really loved Rose for who she was? He wasn’t sure he could answer that question, but he knew that she deserved more than the secondhand love he could offer her. And Rose, ever Lily’s daughter, knew that too and had left him for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excuse me while I go cry in a corner.


	34. Chapter 34

_"_ _But I quickly made friends with the moon and my shadow;  
To find pleasure in life, make the most of the spring.  
Whenever I sang, the moon swayed with me;  
Whenever I danced, my shadow went wild.  
Drinking, we shared our enjoyment together;  
Drunk, then each went off on his own.  
But forever agreed on dispassionate revels,  
We promised to meet in the far Milky Way.”_

\- Li Po [Drinking Alone in the Moonlight]

Convincing Narcissa to take her out of school the Saturday of the Gryffindor Slytherin match was far easier than she expected. All it took was a letter complaining about how tired and stressed N.E.W.T.s studies were making her, and how excited she was for the wedding. Rose didn’t even have to mention dress shopping to her at all—Narcissa’s mind was so focused on the wedding already it was a natural activity. Even though Lucius wasn't a governor of the school anymore, he still had enough influence to arrange the outing. That was how Rose found herself sitting across from her mother one Saturday morning in April in a coffee shop in Diagon Alley before their appointment with the seamstress.

“How are classes going?” Narcissa asked, over a steaming cup of tea. She held the glass delicately with perfectly manicured nails, her pretty blue eyes crinkling at the corners while she smiled at her daughter.

“They’re going well, just a lot of work,” Rose said honestly. “It’s better now that I’m not working on the animagus transformation as well.”

“Your father and I are so proud of you for that—to think, our daughter, the eighth animagus this century,” Narcissa smiled, and Rose felt a warm wash of pride from her compliment. She hadn't been entirely sure how her parents would feel about it as historically animagi had a bit of a reputation for being criminals, so she was glad they'd decided to be proud rather than concerned.

“Thanks mom, I think it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I told you about the mandrake leaf, but did you know that for a whole week I had to wake up before dawn and go to a cave deep in the forbidden forest to collect morning dew?” Rose asked. She hadn’t intended on bringing it up this early in their day together, but she didn’t want to miss her chance.

“Into the forbidden forest? I wish they’d notified us about that,” Narcissa said with a frown. “That sounds dangerous.”

“Oh, I had nothing to worry about. Professor Hagrid woke up at four in the morning to escort me every day; nothing would have dared attack us.”

“The _gamekeeper_?” Narcissa’s eyebrows moved further towards her hairline.

“He used to be the gamekeeper, he’s the Care of Magical Creatures Professor now, and it shows—you should have seen the crossbow he was carrying.”

“A crossbow? That seems rather archaic, what’s wrong with a wand?”

“That’s what I thought too, but Professor Hagrid really knows his subject. You see, there are magical creatures in the forest that are resistant to magic, so a crossbow was a much better way to keep us safe,” Rose said. She had no idea if this was true but was banking on the belief that her mother had never taken a Care of Magical Creatures class either and wouldn’t know any different.

“Hmm,” Narcissa hummed into her tea. “Draco describes him as incompetent, and with what happened the first week of classes... I would have preferred them to have sent Severus or Professor McGonagall with you.”

“Oh mother, I love Draco, but you know how he is—always showing off for his friends. I saw his arm the day it happened, and he was perfectly fine; Madam Pomfrey healed him right away. And I heard from some of the other Slytherins that Draco was goofing around and not listening to Professor Hagrid’s instructions.” Rose shook her head in amused exasperation at her little brother. And then, deciding to pile it on a bit thicker, added, “Professor Hagrid even scared off a few dementors that came after us.”

“Dementors attacked you?” Narcissa said sharply, and Rose backpedaled.

“I’m not sure if they meant to attack us or not, but you never want those monsters to get too close, do you?”

“Well… I will never speak ill of the man again,” Narcissa concluded, going back to sipping her tea. Rose looked down into her own cup of coffee and sighed sadly.

“It’s really a pity. I know Draco didn’t mean it, but that incident at the beginning of the year has caused a lot of trouble for Professor Hagrid. Did you know father spoke to the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures and that they’ve agreed to execute the hippogriff?”

“I’d… heard your father mention it,” Narcissa said slowly.

“Professor Hagrid is really broken up about it—I mean, he’s raised Buckbeak since he was a… a chick,” Rose had no idea what to call a baby hippogriff.

“That’s very sad,” Narcissa agreed.

“I just feel terrible that he’s done so much to help me, after all, I’d never have managed the transformation without him, and now his favorite pet is going to be put down because of our family.”

“Well, dear, it really… it really can’t be helped. You know your father. What’s done is done.”

“I suppose you’re right. I just hope Professor Hagrid can win his appeal.”

“There’s an appeal?” Narcissa asked, her gaze intensifying keenly.

“Yes, I believe it’s scheduled for the last week of classes.”

“Well, we’ll have to hope for the best,” Narcissa concluded, and Rose could see the gears turning in her mind.

Many people underestimated her mother, thinking she was just a pretty face, but Rose knew otherwise. She could be devilishly cunning when she wanted to be, and Rose knew she didn’t need to say anything more—her mother would handle it from here. After finishing their drinks, the pair rose to go. Walking towards the exit, they paused when a voice called out from a booth they passed.

“Cissy…?”

Rose glanced over at the voice and saw two women sitting across from one another. One had long dark hair and heavily lidded eyes—she was around the same age as Rose’s mother and just as beautiful. Across from her sat a young woman with short bubblegum pink hair who grinned and waved when Rose caught her eye.

“Dromeda?” Narcissa asked, her eyes widening in surprise. Rose didn’t miss the tension in her mother’s face.

“It’s been a long time.” The dark-haired woman smiled at her, her eyes flicking to Rose. “Is this your daughter?”

“I’m Rose,” Rose introduced herself awkwardly. Narcissa’s lips were pressed into a thin line and she seemed speechless.

“It’s lovely to meet you Rose, Nymphadora here told me about you when you started at Hogwarts. It looks like you’ve grown into a very fine young woman.”

“Mommm,” the pink-haired woman whined and then grinned at Rose. “Can you believe she named me that? You can just call me Tonks.”

“Thank you ma’am,” Rose responded to the woman first hoping her mother would snap out of whatever funk she was in. And then, glancing at the pink girl, “Have we… met?”

“We overlapped at Hogwarts for two years. I don’t blame you for not remembering, I was a Hufflepuff and tended towards brunette back then.” Rose’s eyes widened as her hair changed from a bright pink to a shoulder length mousy brown color before her eyes.

“It’s nice to re-meet you,” Rose said, still not remembering the older woman.

“Nymphadora here has just passed her auror training, we were out celebrating.” Tonks’ mother said proudly.

“Oh, congratulations,” Rose told her—she’d heard the training was incredibly difficult.

“Come Roselin,” Narcissa said sharply, obviously annoyed by the conversation. “We’ll be late for our appointment.”

“Oh,” Rose said in surprise as her mom rudely walked out the door without a word to the other two. “It was nice meeting you both, goodbye.”

“Goodbye, dear,” the older woman said, though she was watching Narcissa leave with a sad expression. Rose ran after her mother, shooting her a curious look.

“Mom… who was that?” She asked tentatively, she had never seen Narcissa look so upset before.

“That was… Andromeda. My older sister,” Narcissa told her, and Rose’s eyes widened. She’d only ever known of one Aunt on her mother’s side, and Bellatrix was currently in Azkaban.

“So that was my aunt and cousin?”

“They are not our family, Rose.” Narcissa said coolly. “I haven’t spoken to Dromeda in years, not since she married… that mudblood.”

Rose fell silent at this revelation. She’d never known she had an aunt who had been disowned. It suddenly made her situation feel much more precarious. Rose had always known intellectually that her parents would be displeased if she didn’t live up to their marital expectations, but the idea that she could be disowned by two people she thought loved her was terrifying. What would her parents think if they knew she’d recently been associating with muggles? What would they do if they knew the desires she’d been harboring for a certain werewolf? Rose wasn’t sure which would rank lower on their list. Rose pushed aside the similarly disconcerting thought that her birth mother was also one of these despised mudbloods. Narcissa and Lucius seemed to have developed a selective blindness for this fact over the years.

“Mom, did you love dad when you first got married?” Rose asked as they walked. Narcissa glanced at her daughter and gave her a comforting smile.

“I respected and admired Lucius and trusted him to take care of me. He gave me two beautiful children who I love with all my heart.... I wish we could have found someone closer to your age who you knew better, darling, but Stefan Dolohov is a good respectable man.” Narcissa assured her.

“I know that mom. And don’t worry about it, there’s no one at Hogwarts I’d want to marry instead,” Rose said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. No _student_ at Hogwarts anyways.

When they got to the boutique, they were ushered into a private room with hors d’oeuvres and wine. Rose ooh-ed and ahh-ed as Narcissa tried on various dresses that matched the color scheme for the mother of the bride. Rose—who hadn’t even known her wedding had a color scheme, thought the dusty pink color that Narcissa had chosen looked quite good on her.

“Your dress won’t be done for a while, but the designer had some similar ones she said you could try on.”

Rose held up the bodice while the attendant laced it expertly up her back and then helped her out of the changing room by carrying the lengthy train. Narcissa gasped and clapped her hands excitedly when she saw her. The attendant arranged the train carefully on the floor around her, and Narcissa gently set a veil onto the crown of her head. Rose lifted her eyes to look at herself in the mirror and her breath caught in her throat.

The shoulderless bodice with its sweetheart neckline and corset beautifully emphasized the little curve her body had—making her look less like a gangly toothpick and more like a curvaceous woman. The white fabric hugged her body to her thighs and then flared out into a long train of gossamer lace. The entire fabric was covered in delicate beading and tiny jewels that glistened when she moved. The veil Narcissa had set in her hair was simple and edged with a similar beading but was as long as the train on her dress.

“Mom, it’s… incredible,” Rose gasped, twisting from side to side to see more of the dress. She was sure she had never worn anything that made her feel this beautiful in her entire life.

“You look so beautiful,” Narcissa told her, tears welling in her eyes. “I can’t believe my little girl is going to be married in less than three months!”

“Three months!” Rose nearly choked, shooting a wide-eyed look at Narcissa. Her mother looked at her in surprise and then with a slightly guilty expression.

“Yes darling, don’t you remember me telling you what a beautiful June bride you’ll make?”

“You said a June bride… you didn’t say which June you were talking about,” Rose gasped.

“Did I not?” Narcissa asked uncomfortably. “I’m sorry, darling, you know how busy we’ve been with the planning. I hardly remember what I’ve written and what I haven’t.”

“I think the _date_ is pretty significant.” Rose grumped at her mother, feeling suddenly like the corset had become much too tight. “Don’t you think it’s… a little fast?”

“Oh, honey, I know you’re nervous,” Narcissa said, taking her hands and squeezing them tightly. “But you’ll have been engaged almost eight months by then. And a long engagement is much harder than you think. Lucius and I were engaged almost two years before we finally got married. Believe me, you’ll have much more power once he’s wearing a ring as well, it's best to do it as soon as possible.”

"Still..."

"Darling, once you're married and you start having children it will hardly matter who you're married to. They will become your entire world."

Rose nodded silently at this, remembering how beautiful Sam's little brother Kwesi was and trying to keep her panic from welling up to noticeable levels.

“It’s going to be such a beautiful wedding. Margot and I were thinking of a large ceremony at first, but a small exclusive wedding is all the rage these days. People will be dying for an invitation.” Narcissa gushed. Rose was privately relieved to hear this but didn’t tell her mother that. After a few more hours of trying on various wedding attire and ornamentations, their time together was at an end.

“I’ll speak to your father about the hippogriff,” Narcissa told her when she dropped her at the edge of the Hogwarts grounds, and Rose was grateful her goal had been accomplished.

“Thanks, mom,” Rose said with a smile, looking up at the sound of someone approaching. She tried to keep her face completely neutral when she saw it was Professor Lupin who had come to escort her back to the castle. She saw her mother’s gaze flicker across his patched robes judgmentally before they returned to her.

“We’ll see you after exams,” Narcissa said, stepping in and kissing her on the cheek. “I love you, darling.”

“Love you too, mom,” Rose said earnestly, stepping away from the woman and walking over to Lupin. She heard the quiet pop of her mother disapparating behind her. She slunk close to Remus when they passed the dementors, wrapping her arm around his for warmth. She was amazed to find that the heat of his body kept off the cold of the creatures as effectively as her patronus. When he didn’t object to her presence, Rose couldn’t find it in her heart to move away.

“How was your trip?” Remus asked casually after a few minutes of silent walking.

“It was… eventful,” she answered. “I met an aunt and cousin I didn’t know I had.”

“Oh?” Remus said, his eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, Andromeda. Apparently, she was disowned for marrying a... a muggle-born,” Rose said, stopping herself from saying mudblood at the last second.

“Fun…?” he said cautiously, and Rose laughed.

“I also tried on wedding dresses,” she told him, watching in satisfaction as his jaw tightened. She could feel the muscles in his arm tense and leaned her head against his shoulder.

“I’m sure you looked… great,” he said after a moment’s hesitation.

“How badly did Slytherin lose?” Rose asked, deciding a change of subject was for the best.

“By two hundred ten points.”

“So Gryffindor won the championship,” Rose sighed, running a hand over her face in annoyance at Flint’s incompetence.

“Afraid so,” Remus said, but his grin belayed his condolences.

“I thought Professors weren’t supposed to have favorites?”

“Tell that to Snape and McGonagall,” he laughed heartily.

“You were rooting for Gryffindor then?”

“Well, _my_ favorite wasn’t playing this match, so I had to settle for them,” he chuckled, and Rose felt tingly from head to toe and nuzzled her cheek more closely into his arm.

‘ _This is stupid_ ,’ she thought, ‘ _if you do this, it’s just going to hurt more when it’s over._ ’ But at the moment, with his arm in hers, she couldn’t bring herself to care.


	35. Chapter 35

_“The atmosphere is not a perfume, it has no taste of the distillation, it is odorless,  
It is for my mouth forever, I am in love with it,  
I will go to the bank by the wood and become undisguised and naked,  
I am mad for it to be in contact with me.  
The smoke of my own breath…”_

\- Walt Whitman [The Song of Myself]

‘ _She definitely knows_ ,’ Rose thought to herself, trying to ignore the looks of worry Ava kept sending her throughout their herbology class. Rose had known Ava was going to find out from Sam sooner or later. As much as she trusted Sam not to go around gossiping, Sam and Ava were notorious for telling each other everything. Rose didn’t think that Sam had just gone and blabbed to her girlfriend, but Ava knew Sam so well that Rose was certain she’d wheedled the secret out of her.

“Do you want to go on a walk, Rose?” Ava asked, gesturing towards the lake as they left the greenhouses. It really was a nice day. So far, April had been mostly rainy and gray, but today the sun had peaked through and the warmth of spring could finally be felt. There were other students out enjoying the nice weather, but as it was still midday the lakeshore hadn’t become too crowded yet.

“Sure,” Rose decided after a moment of waffling between her desire to get this conversation over with and to avoid it for as long as possible. As they picked their way down the hill to the path that looped around the lake Rose tried to strategize. She wasn’t sure whether to go on the offensive with Ava or stick strictly to defense.

“Don’t be upset with Sam, but she told me about what’s been going on with you and Professor Lupin,” Ava began the conversation before Rose had made up her mind. Defense it was.

“I’m not upset. Was expecting it, really.” Rose responded, glancing up at the smaller trees that were just beginning to become covered in springtime flowers. The larger oaks and maples were still resolutely dormant, waiting on warmer weather. Various daffodils and wildflowers had already pushed their way up in patches along the trail bringing life and color back into the once brown and gray terrain.

“Rose… I… are you sure you’re thinking this through,” Ava asked cautiously. Rose gave her a chagrinned smile.

“That’s such a Ravenclaw question,” Rose hedged, and Ava’s sharp eyes lingered on her face in concern. Rose looked back at the ground, knowing she wasn’t going to weasel her way out of answering and finally admitted, “Probably not.”

“He’s our Professor.”

“I know he’s our Professor, Ava.” Rose said in annoyance.

“It’s just… don’t you think he might be using you?”

“You wouldn’t say that if you had classes with him.” Rose answered sharply, trying to remind herself that Ava didn’t know Lupin very well so she shouldn’t get angry with her. “Lupin is kind and respectful and encouraging, he’s compassionate and honest. He’s not the kind of person who would manipulate anyone for his own gain.”

“I don’t know, Rose, if he’s using his position to come onto students—”

“He’s not—” Rose began and then, realizing how angry she sounded, took a moment to breathe and started over in a calmer tone of voice. “He’s not coming onto students. If anything, I was the one who pursued him.”

“But… but why?” Ava asked cautiously as they paused to pick their way around a mud puddle. “I know you find him attractive, but this could really ruin things for you if others find out. You’re not usually one to take risks for no reason.”

“I didn’t just jump into bed with him at the first opportunity,” Rose snapped. “We’ve just been working together so closely this year. I’ve gotten to know him really well, and things just… just happened.”

“Rose… are you in love with Professor Lupin?” Ava asked hesitantly.

Rose could feel the flush on her cheeks. She opened and closed her mouth but only silence came out. She settled for giving Ava a shrug and a hopeless smile and was embarrassed to find that her eyes had become quite watery. Ava watched all of this with a look of concern.

“Rose…. Please don’t misunderstand what I’m about to say, but aren’t you getting married?” Ava asked. “I know things are different for, for, _purebloods_ , and whatnot, but doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

“Of course it does,” Rose said, her face flushing in shame. She wasn’t sure how to explain this to Ava while not revealing Stefan’s secret. “Stefan and I… we have an understanding.”

“Oh.” Ava responded awkwardly. Silence stretched out between them and the two paused to watch the tentacles of the giant squid breach the surface of the lake—seeking the warmth of the springtime sunlight.

“I’m just trying to understand…” Ava began after another minute of walking, and Rose gave her a teasing grin. Ava flushed slightly and smiled back, “Is my Ravenclaw showing again?”

“Very much,” Rose laughed, “But go on.”

“If you and Stefan are okay with being with other people… wouldn’t it just be better not to get married and be with… whoever it is you want to be with in the first place?”

“That’s just… not how things work for us,” Rose answered, frustrated at how easy Ava was making it sound. “I just met an aunt I didn’t even know I had because she was disowned for marrying a muggle-born. If I don’t marry Stefan, and if he doesn’t marry me, we could both be in that situation. We’d lose our families, resources, opportunities, public respect… you just don’t understand.”

“I do understand that actually.” Ava said, twisting her short hair around a finger in irritation, her tone of voice stonier than Rose had ever heard it. Rose’s face whitened when she realized exactly who she was talking to and what Ava had recently endured from her family.

“I’m sorry, Ava, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s alright.” Ava cut her off with a sad smile. “I know our situations are different… just, just don’t assume that because I’m not a pureblood that I don’t know anything about choosing between your family and what you want.”

“You’re a lot braver than I am,” Rose said looking down at her toes.

“I don’t think it’s about being brave, Rose. I think it’s just about being tired. Trying to live up to some other person’s opinion of who I should be… it just became too exhausting. When I finally decided to be me and live my truth, I got all this energy back that I didn’t know I had. I’d been putting so much effort into maintaining a lie that I didn’t even realize what it had been costing me.” Ava said, her brown eyes warm and kind. “Rose, you’re one of my best friends, and I feel like I’ve come to know you really well over the past few years….”

Rose nodded her head at this in mute agreement.

“And if you don’t mind me saying so, you’re always trying to live up to this fantasy image you’ve created for yourself. I’m not judging you for it, I think we all do it to some extent to try to grow and be better than we are…. But what if that person you’re trying to be isn’t serving you well anymore—what if she’s just holding you back?”

Rose felt like Ava had slapped her. She was angry that Ava seemed to have a better understanding of who Rose was than Rose felt like she did at the moment. Turning her head, she wiped her face on her sleeve, trying to hide the tears. As the two emerged at the end of the trail back at the rocky shore, Ava reached out a hand to her friend, but Rose stepped away.

“I think I just… need to walk some more,” Rose told her with a watery smile. “I’ll see you back up at the castle.”

Without another word, Rose turned on her heel and rushed back up the path out of sight of Ava’s worried gaze. While she walked she could feel the tears when they started falling down her face and onto the muddy path. She wiped at her eyes but didn’t seem able to hold back the tears. After a few minutes, she was forced to sit down on a rock because she could no longer see where she was going. Above her bloomed the bright pink blossoms of a cherry tree—she would have found it beautiful if she hadn’t been so sad. Rose pulled her knees into her chest and buried her face in her arms.

“Stop crying, you stupid stupid girl,” she told herself, but it didn’t work. And then, feeling angry with Ava, muttered, “ _Fucking Ravenclaws_.”

She couldn’t really muster up the ire to be truly mad at her friend for just telling her the truth. Ava had always been good at seeing through her bullshit and calling her out on the selective awareness and doublethink that Slytherins worked hard to cultivate. It hurt so much to know that Ava was right. Rose had spent her whole life trying to live up to the idea of herself as the perfect pureblood daughter. It hadn’t mattered that she was really a Potter or a halfblood because when she was in Lucius and Narcissa’s arms she felt safe and loved there. But somewhere along the way Rose had become disconnected with herself—she had been so focused on being someone else that she wasn’t even sure she really knew who she was or what she wanted. She understood now why she’d struggled so much to answer McGonagall’s questions about what she wanted to do with her life.

And it was so hard because she truly loved her parents. Her mother and father had cared for her and raised her—not as an outsider but as their own child. They had given her a family when hers had suddenly been stripped away from her. They had come into her life at her darkest moment when she had felt her most unloved and forgotten. Rose had spent years crying herself to sleep in that muggle orphanage—unable to talk to anyone about what had happened to her family, unable to fully understand what had happened with her child’s mind and memories. For years she'd thought she was going crazy—that her memories of toy broomsticks and magic wands and two loving parents were strange hallucinations. And when Lucius and Narcissa had taken her away from all of that it had been like getting back a limb or a sense she hadn’t known was missing. Rose yearned for their approval and praise and affection because she knew how terrifying it was to live without those things. Could she survive the loss of another family?

Rose jumped at the snapping of a twig behind her and twisted to see the large black dog slinking out of the woods toward her. He was looking at her curiously and, seeming to sense that she was upset, moved with caution. Rose wiped at her face again with her fingers, not wanting even a dog to see her looking so pathetic.

“Hello again,” she said to him. “No cat today?”

The dog sat down beside her and leaned into her shoulder before sliding down onto his belly; laying there it calmly watched the lake. Rose reached out and ran her hands through his fur, finding the dog’s warmth and calm presence comforting even if he was a bit smelly. She sniffled a bit, blinking her eyes that now felt red and sandpapery. The dog nuzzled her leg, and she smiled at him.

“You’re a good boy,” she told him, smiling when he wagged his tail from side to side. Rose looked back out over the lake, her feelings of melancholy lingering around her like a tangible cloak. She felt physically weighed down by them.

‘ _Rose… are you in love with Professor Lupin?_ ’ Ava’s question echoed around in her mind while she sat there. She remembered how vehemently she'd denied this to Sam, yet somehow she hadn't been able to say anything in response to Ava's knowing look.

Memories of Lupin’s soft touch when he pushed her hair back from her face and the way held her to his chest while she cried came to her then. She thought of the kind attentiveness in his blue eyes when he listened to her talk and the way his smile filled her own body with giddiness. She remembered his tired face leading up to the full moon and how hard he worked even though he was clearly exhausted. She considered the casual way his hair fell into his eyes and the look, full of desire, that he could give, setting her body ablaze. She could feel the tenderness of his touch and could see his uncertainty and vulnerability when he gave her Lily’s book of poetry. Could recall the way his voice sounded reading her words of love and longing before she’d ever known that she felt those words for him:

_'Before you came things were just what they were: the road precisely a road, the horizon fixed, the limit of what could be seen… Now you are here again—stay with me.’_

“I think… I think I love him,” Rose admitted aloud, her confession heard by no one but the warm spring sunlight, the blooming cherry blossoms, and the dog who lay beside her.


	36. Chapter 36

_“Love comes quietly,  
finally, drops  
about me, on me,  
in the old ways.  
What did I know  
thinking myself  
able to go  
alone all the way.”_

\- Robert Creeley [Love Comes Quietly]

Lupin sat behind his desk trying to focus on the fourth-year essays he’d collected from his afternoon class. Setting the one he was currently reading down, he rubbed his face tiredly with both hands, closing his eyes for a moment.

‘ _Why is it so hard to focus lately?_ ’

He knew why, he just didn’t want to admit it himself. His thoughts kept straying to memories of Rose, the feel of her in his arms, the taste of her mouth, the gentle touch of her fingers in his hair, the hopeful look in her eyes when she asked to come visit him in Yorkshire. Lupin groaned. It had been weeks of them pretending everything was normal between them, and it was, if anything, even more difficult to keep her out of his head. He was waking up at night to dreams of what her body would feel like pressed beneath his own, what noises he would elicit from her delicious mouth—it was driving him crazy. The old mantra of ‘ _she’s my student, she’s a Potter, she’s engaged_ ’ was doing nothing to help his guilty mind think about anything else.

Standing, Remus moved over to his office window and pushed it open, leaning on the sill to enjoy some of the warm spring sunlight on his face. His office window, like the one in his chambers, overlooked the rolling hills that sloped down into the Black Lake and the surrounding forest. He could see students milling around the grounds also enjoying the fine spring weather. Many of the trees had begun to bloom and push out small green buds that promised to grow into vibrant leaves. He wished desperately that the trees would go back to sleep and for snow to once again cover the grounds. Spring was a reminder that term was drawing ever closer to a close—ever closer to the day she would leave.

As if summoned by his thoughts, he saw her emerge from the trail around the Black Lake—the same trail they had once walked together where he had held her tightly in his arms. Even from this distance he knew it was Rose. It was evident from her red hair fiery in the sunlight, from the purposeful way she walked, and the confident way she held herself. In fact, she seemed to be walking very fast now, something was clearly on her mind, some destination or goal that was drawing her on. As she neared the castle, he saw her look up towards his window. She was still too far for him to be certain that she was looking at him, but as soon as she looked down again her walk turned into a run. Remus watched her disappear around the corner of the castle and stepped back from his window.

His heart was beating very fast, and he ran a hand through his hair a couple of times, fidgeting with the front of his robes. Remus realized he’d begun to pace back and forth and stopped, trying to calm himself and be reasonable. ‘ _She probably has class or is late to meet with friends. It doesn’t mean she’s coming here_ ,’ he told himself, but his heart would not slow and there was a nervous tension in his stomach that wouldn’t dissipate. And what if she did come here, what then? Surely they’d just sit across from one another as usual, grading papers and staring at each other when they thought neither was looking. Nothing to get worked up about.

He felt his breathing catch when he heard the door to his classroom being thrown open and the sound of her footsteps as she ran across the stone. Heard her take the stairs two at a time and swallowed dryly just before she burst into his office, letting the door slam shut behind her. He had just enough time to take in her appearance—tangled red curls, flushed cheeks, full lips parted and panting from the run, her shoes covered in mud and her eyes bright and focused, before she had crossed the length of the office. Rose crashed into his arms, as if drawn there by forces too great to deny and too powerful to resist. He felt her arms encircle his neck at the same time his wrapped around her waist and their bodies collided, his lips dropping to meet hers.

And then they were kissing one another; clinging to each other as if it was the first time—as if it was the last time. Remus felt like he was drowning in the smell of her. The scents of wet earth and freshly shorn grass and the fragrance of cherry blossoms and crisp spring air clung to her and beneath all of that was her own smell—warm and welcoming and decadent like molten chocolate. She kissed him with a greed and neediness he’d never experienced before, and he kissed her back in kind. All thoughts of right and wrong were drowned out in the feel of her body held firmly against his and all he could think about was how he wanted to feel her even closer against his own.

As if having the same thought, Rose lifted one leg and wrapped it around his thigh, his hand moved down to grasp her leg and hoist it higher up and pull them closer together but this unbalanced them sending Remus tilting forward. He managed to save their fall through the simple expedient of stumbling forward and backing her into his desk, half falling half lowering her onto its surface—sending freshly graded papers scattering across the floor. He heard her gasp into his mouth as she landed hard on the desk and he broke the kiss to ask if she was okay. Rose only dragged him back to her, her nails digging tightly into the back of his robes, her legs wrapping around his hips. She nibbled his lower lip teasingly, gasping when he ground his hips into her. Even through his pants he could feel how hot she had become.

“Rose,” he managed to gasp out, pulling himself away from her vicelike grip just enough to look into her hazel eyes—half-lidded and burning with desire. She smiled at him and the smile made his heart throb in his chest.

“Remus,” she purred, brushing the hair out of his eyes and letting her nails gently scrape across his scalp and the back of his neck. Merlin, the way she said his name in that yearning voice was almost unfair.

“Rose, I can’t promise you anything, I’m a werewolf, I have nothing, I can’t give you—” Rose silenced this jumbled sentence by kissing him again. The kiss this time was slower, sweeter, more confident. Remus found it as calming as he found it sexy. When she broke away from him her eyes looked much clearer.

“Even if nothing else ever comes of it—this, right now, it’s enough,” she told him. “I will regret it my entire life if I leave here not knowing what it’s like to be with you.”

When his lips crashed back into hers there were no more second thoughts or hesitations behind them. Rose felt the room tilting wildly as Remus picked her up, his hands wrapped tightly under her butt, her legs wrapped firmly around his hips. They broke apart only long enough for him to mutter the password and shove open the door to his private rooms. In moments they were in the bedroom and Rose was pushing his robe from his shoulders and letting her own drop to the floor. They took a moment to kick off their shoes and when he dropped her on the bed, she shoved him back into the cushions and climbed onto his lap. Her eyes half closed as she felt him pressing up against her through his pants.

Remus placed his hands on her thighs, massaging the creamy flesh there, and gazed up at her cautiously. She could tell he was waiting for her to make the next move. Grinning at him, Rose loosened her tie and pulled it off, dropping it to the floor. Next came each button of her blouse and his eyes followed every centimeter of flesh she exposed to him. Shrugging the blouse off she hooked her fingers beneath her bralette and pulled it over her head tossing that to the floor as well. It took no encouragement at all for Remus to slide his hands up her hips, over her smooth abdomen, to cup her breasts in his warm hands. Rose let her head fall back as she enjoyed his touches.

“You are so beautiful, Rose,” he told her huskily, and Rose grinned at him cockily. Before she could say anything to goad him on, he sat up and took one of her nipples between his teeth, eliciting a moan from her as his other hand slunk down her hips and up her skirt kneading her butt firmly.

“You’re overdressed,” she told him when her senses returned and Remus paused to look at her, uncertainty flashing over his face as she began to loosen his tie. Catching her hands in his, Lupin stopped her from going further.

“Rose, I… I have a lot of scars,” he said. She smiled warmly at him, giving him a long slow kiss.

“Trust me,” she said, and Remus slowly let go of her hands, allowing her to remove his tie and unbutton his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders. Her eyes roamed across his torso that was littered in long silvery scars. She could see what looked like the marks from a ring of sharp teeth on his left shoulder and swallowed thickly.

“I know they’re a bit… gruesome,” he said, not looking at her. Rose surprised him by taking his face in her hands and kissing him deeply, the bare flesh of their torsos pressing together for the first time.

“Remus, it’s a shame you have no idea how incredibly sexy you are,” she told him, touching her forehead to his. And then, grinning mischievously, ran her nails down his back, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from him, asking, “Is this a therapy session or were you going to fuck me?”

Lupin let out a bark of laughter, and grabbed the bottoms of her thighs, flipping her roughly onto her back. Rose gasped and grinned up at Remus when he bent over her—his mischievous smile back on his face. She reached up to pull him in, but he grabbed her wrists and pinned them beside her head. Butterflies erupted in her stomach at the look of desire he gave her while his eyes raked over her body and heat pooled in her groin at the feel of him kneeling between her legs. Arching her back, she tried to bring their bodies into contact, but she couldn’t reach.

“Relax, pet,” he said, his eyes like molten fire. And bending down he trailed kisses from her lips to her jawline and down along her neck to her collarbone. She moaned aloud when he kissed his way around each breast, swirling his tongue around her pointed nipples. As he kissed his way lower, he released her wrists, but she was in too much of a haze of pleasure to notice. She felt him reach up under her skirt and gently drag her panties down her leg, flinging them off the bed. Rose buried her hands in his hair, her back arching off the mattress when he planted kisses in her most intimate place.

“Remus—” Rose gasped and bucked her hips involuntarily. He wrapped his arms under her legs and held her hips down firmly as he continued his ministrations. She squirmed against the mattress, writhing in pleasure. When she could feel herself nearing her peak she grabbed his hands, pulling him back up to her. Kissing him, she could taste herself on his lips and tongue.

“Remus, please,” she begged, reaching a hand down and running it over the front of his trousers. The two of them fumbled with his belt for a moment before his pants were suddenly down around his ankles and kicked off the bed. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and pulled one of her legs up to hook around his hip. The fingers of his other hand intertwined with her own, pressing their clutched fists hard into the mattress as he positioned himself at her entrance.

Rose dug her nails of her free hand into the flesh of his back, gasping when he pushed into her. She was no virgin, but it had been a while since she’d last had sex and even with how wet he had made her she still needed a moment to adjust to him. Remus groaned into her ear as he sank completely into her and the two paused for a moment, panting from desire. She moaned when he began to move. Lifting his head, he kissed her again, their tongues chasing each other while Rose tried to match his thrusts with her own, feeling her pleasure building once again.

“Rose,” he moaned into her mouth, releasing her hand to yank her hips up and throw her stockinged legs over his shoulders. The change of angle and more frantic pace sent sharp waves of pleasure through her body and she raked her nails down his shoulders and arms, clinging to him tightly. Rose threw her head back and cried out his name and other incoherent syllables while her whole body flooded in sudden pleasure. She heard him growl and then take a sharp intake of breath before his body tensed.

Remus collapsed into Rose’s arms, their bodies sweaty and hot, both still riding out the waves of pleasure they had just experienced. Rose ran her fingers across his back in lazy circles, a contented smile on her face. After a few minutes of panting into her neck, Remus carefully pulled out of her and rolled onto his back a wide grin on his face. Scooching over, she laid her head on his chest, resting her hand on his scarred abdomen. He held her close and kissed the top of her head.

“Sorry if it was… it’s been a while,” he said apologetically, and Rose started to giggle at him. Wriggling up she planted a contented kiss on his cheek.

“You were perfect,” she assured him, her own grin widening at the boyish smile that spread across his face. Squirming out of his embrace, Rose unzipped the skirt she was still wearing, letting it fall to the floor before fishing around in her robe pocket for the dwindling pack of cigarettes Sam had given her.

“Cigarette?” She asked, pulling one out, flushing slightly when she realized he’d been staring at her.

“Why not,” he shrugged, sitting up against the pillows, he pulled back the covers, letting her snuggle back up to him. The pair smoked the cigarette together in contented silence, the nicotine buzz amplifying the residual pleasure of their recent activities.

“We’ll need to shower before dinner, if McGonagall thinks I’ve been smoking again she’ll kill me.”

“A shower sounds nice,” he grinned, his eyes flicking down over her body again. Rose flushed prettily at this and looked rather pleased with herself. Remus entwined his fingers around her own, squeezing her hand affectionately. The act of sitting in bed with him, laying her head on his shoulder and holding his hand felt somehow even more intimate than the incredible sex they’d just had. Rose’s heart thudded in her chest as she traced her thumb across his knuckles. The words ‘ _I love you_ ’ welled up in her breast, longing to be said, but she bit her tongue. It was amazing how a feeling denied for so long could suddenly, upon its discovery, be so difficult to keep silent—but Rose was afraid that if she told him she loved him that she would scare him away. And if a couple months was all she had left with him, she was going to make the most of it.


	37. Chapter 37

_“Vast and gray, the sky **  
**is a simulacrum **  
**to all but him whose days **  
**are vast and gray, and— **  
**In the tall, dried grasses **  
**a goat stirs **  
**with nozzle searching the ground. **  
**—my head is in the air **  
**but who am I…? **  
**And amazed my heart leaps ****  
at the thought of love  
vast and gray  
yearning silently over me.”_

\- Carlos Williams [The Desolate Field]

“Is this the kind of thing you like, pet?” Lupin’s voice growled into her ear huskily, his hand wrapped tightly around her hair, keeping her from straightening up. Rose gripped the edges of his desk so tightly she felt her nails scratching the surface. Remus had her pinned chest first against the wood, and he was leaned over her, his body pressing heavily against her own.

Rose’s heart was hammering in her chest as he used one of his legs to roughly push hers apart. She moaned at the rush of cool air hitting her crotch when he spread her legs. Her thighs trembled when she felt one of his hands lazily slide up the back of her leg and place two fingers against her soaking panties. Rose panted into the desk as he moved them in lazy circles that were driving her crazy.

“Remus,” she moaned wantingly, and she could hear the grin in his voice when he spoke next.

“What is it, pet, is something the matter?” He asked. Rose growled, and he laughed good-naturedly at her obvious frustration, pushing her panties to the side. She gasped loudly when he touched her bare skin. “Oh? Was that what you wanted.”

“More…” she managed to say, desperate to feel him inside of her.

“Rose,” he breathed. “Rose, wake up.”

“What?” she furrowed her brow in confusion, not understanding through the haze of pleasure surrounding her.

“Wake up, Rose, we’re going to be late for breakfast.” Rose blinked her eyes open to see Mariko looking down at her. Her fellow Slytherin quirked a brow at Rose’s flushed face and grinned slyly. “Good dream?”

“Shut-up, Mari,” Rose blushed, sitting up in bed. She tried not to let her mind linger on the arousing dream she’d been having, or the damp state of her cotton pajama bottoms. She quickly dressed and followed Mari out of their dorm and down the stairs to the common room.

“Morning Draco,” Rose said to her brother who was descending from his own dormitory.

“Hey,” he responded moodily, falling into step with her and Mariko. The three followed a group of Slytherins out of the common room heading up for breakfast.

“No Crabbe and Goyle today?”

“They were being irritating. I told them to go ahead without me.”

“No Patsy?”

“It’s _Pansy_ ,” Draco snapped at her, and Rose grinned unapologetically.

“Whatever,” Rose said with a flick of her wrist.

“She hasn’t been around much since we lost the match,” Draco admitted grumpily, and Rose winced. It was always like this with Slytherins. When the team won, they were the heroes; when they lost, they tended to be reviled for a few weeks until the rest of the House got over it. As Slytherin had been in a two-hundred-point lead over Gryffindor before their match and had failed to maintain a five year winning streak, the loss was particularly devastating.

“She’ll get over it,” Rose comforted him, laying a hand on his shoulder.

“I thought you were brilliant,” a small voice from behind the trio piped up. Rose and Draco both turned to see a Slytherin first-year who’d apparently been trailing behind them. She was thin, small, and pale but her large brown eyes looking up at Draco in obvious admiration.

“I didn’t ask you,” Draco snapped at her, his lips curling back from his mouth cruelly. The young girl’s eyes grew watery, and she turned and fled. Rose gave him a disapproving look.

“Well done, Draco, way to make an ass of yourself.”

“She’s been following me around all year, I’m sick of it,” he said, looking down at his feet.

“That doesn’t mean you can make a little girl cry. Remember what father says about being a gentleman.”

“I don’t need you to lecture me,” Draco grumbled but looked properly chastised.

“Who was she anyway?” Rose asked when they emerged onto the first floor.

“One of the Greengrass girls.”

“Draco,” Rose sighed in exasperation. “You really do need to work on your manners. That family is almost as powerful as ours.”

“I get it, alright!” He snapped at her. Rose raised her eyebrows at him in irritation, and Draco looked at his feet. “I’m sorry, Rose.”

“That’s okay little brother,” Rose grinned, leaning in and giving him an obnoxiously loving side-hug, laying her cheek on the top of his head. She would miss being able to do this when he was finally taller than her. Draco quickly pealed himself from her embrace and fled into the Great Hall as Rose snickered to herself. She and Mariko stepped to the side of the doors to let Professor Dumbledore exit the hall. He turned twinkling blue eyes upon them and gave them both a wide smile.

“Morning Miss Arai, Miss Malfoy,” he said jovially.

“Good morning Headmaster,” Mari and Rose chorused.

Turning to Rose, he said, “I just finished perusing your article over my morning bowl of rhubarb porridge—I was thrilled to start my day off on such a positive note, I quite enjoyed it.”

“Thank you, sir,” Rose said, realizing her animagus article must have just published in _Transfiguration Today._

“I’m glad to see that this year has been so instrumental in broadening your perspective,” he told her, clapping Rose on the shoulder and walking off. She watched him go with a confused look on her face. She wasn’t sure how becoming an animagus was supposed to have broadened her perspective. Maybe he meant the literal perspective of becoming a fox? One could never be quite certain with a wizard as eccentric as Albus Dumbledore.

“What was that about?” Mariko asked curiously.

“I had an article set to publish in _Transfiguration Today_. I guess the edition must have just been released,” Rose said as they sat down at the Slytherin table.

“Dumbledore _would_ eat rhubarb porridge, what a fucking weirdo,” Mariko said with a vaguely disgusted look on her face as she scooped some eggs and roasted potatoes onto her plate.

“He definitely has… odd tastes,” Rose agreed, thinking of the garishly yellow robes Dumbledore had been prone to wearing during their first year at Hogwarts.

“Lupin’s looking like he might be getting sick again,” Mari observed as she glanced up at the staff table.

Rose, who knew that the next full moon was coming up the first week of May just nodded in agreement. Remus was pale and tired looking this morning but didn’t have the same dark circles under his eyes that she knew he’d acquire in a few days. Looking up from his breakfast, he smiled tiredly at the two of them, and Rose tried to hide her blush while Mariko waved back. She saw the flicker of curiosity in Lupin’s eyes at her reaction, but Rose was determined not to look at him again—afraid it would recall the dream to her mind. When she did glance up at him out of the corner of her eye a few minutes later, she could tell that he was looking very smug and knew he must have guessed why she wouldn’t meet his gaze. ‘ _Infuriating man,_ ’ she thought with a smile, her heart thudding happily.

They had made it to breakfast just in time for the morning mail to begin arriving. Owls swooped in sporadically, and students scrambled to catch letters and packages before they could land in their food. As expected, the Malfoy’s elegant barn owl swooped down towards Rose, dropping a thick rolled up paper over her head. Reaching out a hand, she snatched it out of the air with the practiced coordination of a chaser, quickly slipped the string of twine off the roll, and began to flip through the pages eagerly.

“What is it?” Mariko asked between a bite of her eggs when she realized Rose hadn’t moved for several seconds and her mouth was parted in shock.

“This… this is… my lycanthropy essay,” Rose gaped at the black and white pages. Her eyes were glued uncomprehendingly to the title which read ‘ _A Shift in Strategy: Transfiguration and the Future of Lycanthropic Research_.’ Slowly, her eyes traveled down the page to where she saw the words, ‘ _written by Roselin Malfoy; endorsed by Damien Angevin._ ’ She felt tears unexpectedly well in her eyes and quickly put her hands over her face to hide them.

“Rose, are you alright?” Mariko asked in alarm, and Rose nodded, sniffling into her palms. After a few calming breaths she managed to get her emotions back under control and pull her face out of her hands.

“I’m just so happy,” she managed to say through the enormous smile on her face. Rose had worked so hard to research and write that essay, and for months all her hopes and dreams were wrapped up in its successful publication. When it had been rejected, she’d felt utterly devastated. Knowing that Damien Angevin had read it and thought it good enough that he’d reached out to _Transfiguration_ was like something out of a dream.

Rose couldn’t stop grinning all through breakfast, trying to think of what she could write to Damien in a thank you note that could possibly convey how grateful she was to him. Later that day when she sat down for double Transfiguration with the Gryffindors, she was still grinning from ear to ear. McGonagall looked over at her from behind her desk, a copy of _Transfiguration Today_ clearly visible on its surface. As the other students trailed in, McGonagall didn’t say a word, but her sharp eyes met Rose’s, and she gave her an approving and congratulatory nod—a small motherly smile tugging at the corner of her lips. Rose had never felt as proud of herself as she did in that moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter today, but I hope you still enjoyed it. Have to be more creative to find ways to torture you guys now that Rose and Remus are actually together. (I also really wanted to throw in a Draco/Astoria interaction really early on because I love stupid cute things.)


	38. Chapter 38

_“She can kill with a smile, she can wound with her eyes  
And she can ruin your faith with her casual lies  
And she only reveals what she wants you to see  
She hides like a child but she's always a woman to me_

_She can lead you to love, she can take you or leave you  
She can ask for the truth but she'll never believe you  
And she'll take what you give her as long as it's free  
Yeah she steals like a thief but she's always a woman to me”_

\- Billy Joel [She’s Always a Woman]

Rose walked into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom with a feeling of resignation and dread. As expected when she arrived, Severus Snape was already seated happily behind the desk at the front of the classroom. He looked up when she entered, the smugness never leaving his face. Rose took a deep breath, knowing that she needed to stay calm and collected in his presence. She didn’t think that Snape went around using legilimency on unsuspecting students, but she was not about to risk it.

“Miss Malfoy,” he drawled. “Lupin left a letter indicating I should expect you.”

“Good morning, sir,” she acknowledged simply, picking a pile of essays off the desk and moving to set them face down on the desks around the room. She could have easily done this with magic, but it served as a good excuse not to be too close to him.

“I see that Lupin is still as lax as ever in giving marks. Hardly a handful of those would have managed an ‘Acceptable’ from me.” Rose didn’t rise to the bait and just kept setting the essays down. It irked her a bit to know he’d been reading through them before she arrived—likely just to have something to criticize when she got there. It was bad luck that the lesson Lupin had specifically asked her to assist him with fell on the day of a full moon.

“Interesting that he’d require the help of a mere student to teach something as simple as a Patronus Charm…. _Inept_ some might say.” Rose bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself from retorting but couldn’t help sending him a look of annoyance. His lips curled back from his mouth in an amused smile at her obvious irritation. She was sure that Severus Snape was well aware or at least guessed that Lupin’s patronus took on the form of a wolf and that he wouldn’t want to just show this off to his students; he was just being deliberately obtuse about it.

“Interesting that you remembered today’s lesson; we were concerned after you became so easily _confused_ last term,” the words slipped out of Rose’s mouth as soon as she stopped actively biting them back. She saw the brief flash of anger in his dark eyes.

“Detention, Miss Malfoy. Tonight, potions classroom.” he said after a long moment of silence. It was Rose’s turn to sneer at him.

‘ _Worth it_ ,’ she thought.

The sixth-year class began to trickle into the room, taking their seats silently. The good-natured chatter that usually marked the time before classes began was conspicuously absent under the gaze of Severus Snape. The majority of students in the class were Slytherins as they tended to have an affinity towards the Dark Arts, closely followed by Gryffindors who outnumbered the bare spattering of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. Much like Rose’s own seventh year defense class, this one was small enough that all four houses shared a single class together. Due to the inconsistency of the teaching, taking Defense Against the Dark Arts to the N.E.W.T.s level was considered quite risky by the majority of students. When Rose had turned up for DADA classes last year to find that Gilderoy Lockhart was a complete imbecile, she’d been terrified that she’d made a huge mistake in continuing the subject.

“Settle down,” Snape said, not unkindly, to the couple of Slytherin students who were daring to whisper to each other as he stood to teach. The students from other Houses looked appropriately miffed at this obvious preferential treatment. Rose seated herself at a desk off to the side of the room to observe the lesson.

“Today, we will be covering the Patronus Charm, a defensive spell which summons a magical guardian to the caster’s aid. A fully corporeal patronus will take on the form of an animal which the caster generally bears a deep affinity towards. A corporeal patronus is like one’s finger print and it is rare to meet another individual who shares your same animal—because of this, some wizards and witches will choose to cast incorporeal patronuses in order to conceal their identity. Since many are incapable of ever summoning a fully corporeal patronus, it is difficult to know if someone is hiding their patronus or merely incompetent. It is said that only a wizard or witch who is pure of heart can cast a corporeal patronus.” Snape sneered the last line as if this were a fanciful notion. Rose wondered, briefly, if someone as often cruel and malicious as Severus Snape was capable of producing one.

“You all have had the unique opportunity to experience first-hand one of the creatures the Patronus Charm can help you defend against: dementors.” A collective shiver ran through the class at the mention of them. “The charm works by manifesting a purely positive force, incapable of feeling the despair dark creatures often feed upon. The incantation ‘expecto patronum’ must be cast while simultaneously concentrating on a single, powerfully happy memory. Professor Lupin recruited Miss Malfoy to demonstrate this for you all today.”

Sighing at Snape’s pettiness in assuring that the entire class knew that Lupin had been the one to bring Rose in for the charm, she stood up and walked up to the front of the class. Smiling at the sixth years, she brandished her wand and focused on the first memory that came to mind. The image of sitting in bed with Lupin, holding his hand while the two shared a cigarette together immediately popped into her head. With a faint pink tinge to her cheeks, Rose began tracing quick smooth circles in the air with her wand focusing on the feelings of love, contentment, and joy she had felt.

“Expecto patronum,” Rose said clearly, and a silvery doe burst from the tip of her wand and began to gallop around the room. The eyes of the students followed the animal’s progress, and Rose, who had expected Snape to immediately critique her for some error she had made, glanced over at him in surprise at his silence. He looked even more pale than usual, and his eyes were following the doe around the room with an unfathomable expression. The look disappeared behind an apathetic mask as soon as he noticed her glancing his way. She narrowed her eyes at him, but he didn’t look at her again, instead instructing the students to stand and distance themselves around the room to begin practicing the patronus charm.

‘ _What was that about_ ,’ Rose wondered to herself as she wandered around, helping the students where she could. She couldn’t shake the idea that something about her patronus had badly unnerved the man. Was it because he’d expected it to be a fox? After registering with the ministry, her animagus form had quickly spread around the school when curious students had looked it up. She knew that an animagus form and patronus were both supposed to reveal an animal which the caster had an affinity towards and had been surprised herself that she had not become a doe upon transforming.

“What form is your patronus, sir?” she heard one of the Slytherins ask Snape, but it seemed like he didn’t hear her because he walked quickly by to snap at one of the Gryffindor’s wand-form. Rose snorted under her breath, now even more convinced that Snape could not produce a corporeal patronus. By the end of the lesson, Rose had dismissed his strange behavior.

That night, when she made her way to the potion’s classroom, Rose was determined to be on her best behavior. She didn’t want to give him an excuse to give her another detention after all. Rose had already been in detention more this year than she had in her entire Hogwarts career. Walking in, she steeled herself, expecting to bear the brunt of Snape’s temper, but he barely looked up at her and seemed uncharacteristically subdued.

“I dare to assume you aren’t rusty enough after a year off that you’ve forgotten how to brew a Wiggenweld Potion,” Snape asked derisively. Rose snorted derisively at this—the Wiggenweld potion was a basic healing concoction they learned to brew in their first year that helped to counteract sleeping draughts.

“I think I can manage it, sir,” she answered, trying to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. As he didn’t comment on her tone of voice, she assumed she must have accomplished it.

“My sixth-years will be testing their Draughts of the Living Death tomorrow, and it occurred to me that having some on hand might be convenient,” he continued as if he really didn’t care whether his students stayed in a death-like coma or not. “The ingredients are on the desk; the instructions are on the board. I expect you to be able to prepare a few batches before your detention is up.”

Walking towards the empty cauldrons, Rose pulled her hair up into a messy bun atop her head to keep it away from the potion fumes and laid her robe across one of the chairs, getting to work. Rolling up her sleeves, she read over the instructions to the potion carefully—just because she was confident she could brew it didn’t mean she was going to rush and give Snape something to criticize. As she began to carefully prepare the ingredients, she found the process oddly calming and nostalgic. Potions had never come to her with the same intuitive skill that Ava possessed, but she had worked hard to hone her skills in the subject given that Snape had been her favorite Professor for years. As she worked, a question she’d been thinking about since that morning kept revolving around in her mind.

“Professor…,” Rose began cautiously as she set her first potion to simmering and moved on to preparing the next.

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten how—”

“It’s nothing like that, sir, I just had a question about patronuses,” she tried to sound properly placating, but he immediately looked guarded and suspicious.

“You are here to serve detention, not to receive instruction,” he snapped at her, turning back to the letter he was reading.

“I’m sorry, Professor,” Rose said innocently, returning to her potion preparation. “I suppose I can wait and ask Professor Lupin about it tomorrow.”

Rose deliberately didn’t look back up at Severus, but even from this distance could almost feel the internal battle he was having with himself—he knew she was intentionally baiting him into answering her, but he also hated Lupin and thought him incompetent. She had to work very hard to keep any signs of a grin from showing on her face.

“What is it,” he asked finally. Rose resisted the urge to tease him some more and dove into her question.

“Well, the patronus charm and the animagus potion are both supposed to reveal animals that are most like the caster, but I don’t understand how that can be since my patronus and animagus form are different.” Rose hadn’t really thought too hard about the discrepancy before sitting in on the morning’s lecture. Snape observed her silently with his dark eyes for a long moment before answering.

“The problem is in your assumption that both manifest the same part of a caster’s personality. You learned about this in arithmancy, I assume,” Severus began in a lecturing tone. Rose nodded, in arithmancy, there were three different parts of one’s personality—one’s general character, one’s inner heart, and one’s social personality. “There are many theories about this, but simply put a patronus, which is a manifestation of a deeply happy memory, represents a person’s true inner self and desires whereas the animagus form, which is about changing the caster’s appearance, is believed to represent a person’s social personality or how a person wishes others to perceive them in the moment they drink the potion.”

“Oh,” Rose said, considering this information for a moment. This was easy enough logic to follow especially given her background in arithmancy.

“There are other theories that tell us that a person’s patronus—because it is a guardian creature—is tied to feelings or memories of protection and safety,” Snape added almost as an afterthought.

“So, it isn’t unusual for the two to be different?” She asked the question that was weighing on her mind.

“Corporeal patronuses and animagi are very advanced forms of magic, there aren’t enough wizards and witches who can accomplish both to say,” Snape said turning back to the letters on his desk.

Rose continued brewing her potions, lost in thought. Thinking of it in those terms, it was a wonder to her that a person’s patronus and animagus form ever matched up at all. What kind of person was so vulnerable and honest that their inner self matched what they desired others to see? That was certainly not how she had been raised. She found it even more interesting now that Remus’ patronus was a wolf. Was it because he felt his strongest and most able to defend himself as a werewolf? Or was it because wolves were pack animals, and Remus craved the inclusion and social connection with others that he had so long been denied. She found the second thought utterly depressing and quickly turned her mind to her own patronus. Rose had always found the doe rather lackluster. Deer were not particularly ferocious or exciting—in fact they were quite common and skittish. She had been so excited that her animagus had been a fox—a cunning sure-footed creature—that she hadn’t initially questioned the difference. She supposed that a doe was graceful and swift but couldn’t fathom why she’d feel protected by it.

At the end of her detention she bottled her potions in several vials and took them to Severus’ desk. He began carefully inspecting each vial—an unimpressed look on his face. Rose wasn’t overly concerned about this as she’d seen him make that face at Ava’s extraordinary potions for an entire year. Still considering the oddity of her patronus, she voiced her thoughts aloud.

“Why do you think my patronus is a doe?” She asked. One of the vials Severus was holding up to the light slipped from his fingers. Rose made a dive for it across his desk, managing to snatch it out of the air before it could shatter over his letters. Letting out a shaky breath, she gave him a cheeky smile and handed the vial back to him which he took from her carefully.

“No need to thank me, sir,” she said teasingly at his silence. Snape gave her an irritated look that made her grin. As he lowered the vial to his desk, Rose’s eyes followed the movement, and she froze at seeing a letter with familiar dark green ink and gracefully looping script. He’d clearly been hiding it beneath other papers, and it must have become dislodged during her saving of the vial. Seeing where her eyes had gone, Snape quickly shuffled it back under other papers but not before she had seen her name amongst the various words.

“Are you talking about me _with my mother_ ,” she asked in outrage, putting her hands on her hips and glaring down at him.

“If you do not wish for another detention, Miss Malfoy, you will speak to me with more respect,” he hissed back, clearly hoping to intimidate her into dropping the subject—it wasn’t going to work.

“Are you talking about me with my mother, _sir_ ,” she snarled. Clearly realizing she was not going to be so easily dissuaded, Snape stood and splayed his fingers out on the desk, leaning towards her irritably. Severus—who was of a height with Remus Lupin—easily towered over her normally intimidating height.

“Narcissa and Lucius are concerned about you,” he sneered.

“I wonder why, given who they’re talking to,” she said accusingly.

“Do not presume to chastise me after I have spent the last several days defending the subject matter of your recent publication,” he snarled back, and Rose’s mouth clicked shut, her face going red. Of course they would be upset that she’d written on lycanthropy.

“I didn’t think—”

“That much is clear.”

“I didn’t think they’d read it,” she finished in irritation. _Transfiguration Today_ was not a common newspaper like _The Daily Prophet_ ; it was an academic journal.

“You obviously underestimate their interest in their daughter’s accomplishments.”

“Were they… angry,” she asked hesitantly, her eyes dropping back to the desk.

“They were not pleased,” he answered. “Especially as this occurred mere weeks after you appealed to Narcissa on behalf of a hippogriff that attacked your brother. They wanted to know what has been happening to make you act this way.”

“And what are you telling them?” Rose asked suspiciously. “You can’t tell them about—”

“What I write in my personal letters is not your business,” he snarled, but she stood her ground.

“You can’t tell them that Professor Lupin is—”

“You needn’t worry about your precious werewolf,” he sneered at her. “Though it is beyond my comprehension why you have grown so fond of a lying untrustworthy monster.”

“He’s not untrustworthy or a liar, and he isn’t a monster,” she snapped back at him although she knew this wasn’t entirely true. She had been aware for some time that Remus Lupin was a very good liar.

“You are just like your mother—defending and fawning over a man who doesn’t deserve it.” His voice was acidic, and she stepped back as if he’d struck her. She knew he was not talking about Narcissa.

“Don’t you dare compare me to Lily Potter!” she shouted at him angrily. Snape looked at her stonily, clearly regretting bringing up the subject in the heat of the moment.

“Get out,” he said dismissively, waving his hand at the door. Rose didn’t need telling twice. Turning on her heal, she grabbed her robe off the chair, stormed out of the classroom and slammed the door behind her—their fight making her forget that he never did answer her earlier question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought this was going to be a shorter chapter and then it just kept growing. Did song lyrics instead of a poem today, but I'm pretty sure Billy Joel wrote that song about Rose because it describes her perfectly (both in her relationship with Remus but especially with Severus). I actually really loved writing this chapter, so I hope you all enjoy it too!
> 
> Also, for those keeping track, this is the last full moon before June! Getting so close! I originally expected this story to have around 40 chapters, but I think it will wind up being between 40 and 50. I will be slowing down with posting now that the end of the semester is here, and I have to write for that.
> 
> I'm also thinking about doing a series of one-shots set after the conclusion of the war when Rose and Remus (eventually) get their happy ending, so if you all have any requests or ideas for subject matter on that let me know. It will be awhile before I get around to writing anything for that though.


	39. Chapter 39

_"Let me know when you begin the new tea,  
and the new white wine.  
My present elegances have not yet made me indifferent to such matters.  
I am still a cat if I see a mouse."_

_\- Jane Austen [Letter to Casandra]_

“Tell me a secret,” Rose asked softly, trailing her fingers across Remus’ bare torso. Yawning, he looked at her with sleepy eyes, pulling her closer to him. Their bare bodies, tired from the previous activities, fit together perfectly.

“Hmm,” he mused for a moment before grinning wickedly at her. “I’m a werewolf.”

“Shocking,” she rolled her eyes at him. Remus wrapped his other arm around her, and Rose nuzzled against his chest.

“Tell me a secret,” he said.

‘ _I’m in love with you_ ,’ she thought silently before brushing the confession aside.

“I’m a werewolf too,” she mumbled into his chest. Remus slapped her lightly on her bare buttocks, and she jumped, mewling in protest. He tilted his head down and kissed her affectionately, running his hands up and down her back. Rose arched her back, pressing herself firmly against him.

“Why do you want to know a secret,” Remus asked, brushing a strand of hair from her face when they broke apart.

“I want to know everything about you, Remus. All the things that make you laugh. Your hopes, dreams, fears. Your favorite color, favorite breakfast food… you know, all the important stuff,” she said with a cheeky grin.

“My favorite color is blue, as for breakfast food, I’d have to say chocolate chip pancakes,” he grinned at her, and his eyes were thoughtful. “And… if you want to know a secret we’d need to get dressed and get out of bed.”

“Hmm,” she thought this over skeptically, letting her eyes run over his naked body appreciatively. “Can we come back to bed after?”

Lupin let out a hearty laugh at this, kissed her nose, and sat up. Getting out of bed and pulling on her wrinkled uniform, she followed him out to his office. She perched on the edge of his desk when he sat in his chair and watched him pull open one of the side drawers. Her breath caught when he pulled out a familiar looking folded sheet of parchment. As he unfolded it, she saw that it did seem to be just a blank spare piece of parchment.

“If I tell you a secret, I want your promise that you’ll answer one of my own questions,” he said seriously. Rose met his blue eyes with her own and hesitated for a heartbeat before nodding; it wasn’t difficult for her to guess what he’d want to know from her in exchange.

“Deal,” she agreed, and taking out his wand, Remus tapped the front of the parchment with it.

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,” he recited, and Rose raised her eyebrows at this. Then, as lines and words began appearing across the surface of the parchment, she leaned closer in obvious curiosity.

“Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs, purveyors of aids to magical mischief-makers, are proud to present the Marauder’s Map,” she read aloud as the words became discernable on the parchment surface. “What is that?”

“Have a look,” he grinned, offering the parchment to her. Rose took it delicately and flipped it open, her eyes roaming around the pages.

She could immediately tell that the map depicted the castle and the grounds. She saw that there were additions that she didn’t recognize—paths that trailed away from the castle from unexpected locations. And all around the castle moved small ink dots each accompanied by their own label. Most of these were clustered together on top of each other in the four common rooms and the library and were impossible to read. Rose recognized the names of various students and teachers who wandered up and down the corridors. Her eyes finally rested on the office where two dots labeled Remus Lupin and Rose Potter Malfoy were resting.

“What is this?” She asked again, her eyes wide with awe.

“This is the Marauder’s Map. It shows everyone in Hogwarts—wherever they are, whatever they’re doing,” he told her. Rose flipped the map shut, running her fingers across the names on the front page. ‘ _Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs._ ’

“Did you make this?” Rose asked, her fingers lingering over the word ‘ _Moony_ ’.

“Not just me, your dad too, and a couple others,” he said with a smile.

“This is… this is incredible, Remus,” Rose replied, her eyes continuing to roam around the map, trying to identify the various advanced magics that must have gone into its creation. Rose had always heard about James from the perspective of the Malfoys or from the derogatory perspective of Severus Snape. She’d long heard about how arrogant, how reckless, how lazy James Potter had been—she had never known he was also a brilliant wizard capable of such creative and advanced uses of magic. Holding the map in her hands was like looking back in time and seeing a side of her father she’d never known existed. Rose was surprised to feel pride at being the daughter of one of the people who had created this.

“James came up with the idea,” Remus said. “It took us five years to figure out how to do it and make the final version.”

“You can’t have used simple mapping spells since Hogwarts is unplottable… did you teach it what the castle looked like?” Rose mused curiously. “It reminds me of the enchanted portraits, but you’ve managed to get it to accurately reflect the castle’s current occupants.”

“That’s where James got the idea from,” Remus said, impressed that she’d made the connection so quickly—she was her father’s daughter it seemed.

“You must have used some very advanced charmswork.” Rose regretted not taking charms to the N.E.W.T.s level for the first time.

“That was one of the steps,” he grinned at her. She could tell he was enjoying the praise—the cocky look on his face made Remus appear years younger.

“Is the map sentient then?”

“Not fully,” he hedged. “But it can imitate us to some extent.”

“Can it still learn?”

“Only from one of us, I think, but I’m not sure it would even recognize me now. Even if it did, I wouldn’t want to change it, it’s nice to think of our teenage selves preserved in its pages.”

“Thank you for showing this to me, Remus, it’s amazing.” Rose smiled sincerely at the man, folding it up and handing it back to him. He tapped it with his wand again, said “mischief managed”, and put the fading map back into his desk drawer.

“Now… was there something you wanted to ask me?” Rose asked, deciding to get this over with as quickly as possible. Remus looked at her with clear blue eyes, obviously considering how to phrase the question. He took one of her hands in his own, tracing the lines of her palm delicately with his thumb.

“I want to know what’s going on between you and Severus,” he said with conviction, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Nothing is going on between us, Remus. And that’s the truth,” Rose began hesitantly, taking a deep breath to steel her nerves. “But we did have something. Last year. It started over Christmas and ended in June. It was a mistake; I don’t really think there’s much more to say about it. And just to be clear, I’m not here with you now because I’m collecting notches in my belt. I’ve never told anyone about what happened between Severus and me. At the time, I thought I loved him, and I… I really care about you Remus—more than I ever thought I could.”

She watched while various expressions flickered across his face. Could see the disgust at her relationship with a man he clearly did not respect, the suspicion that she was using him, the anger that she’d kept the relationship a secret till now, and the conflict of disapproving while trying to reconcile what was currently happening between them. But the whole time he never dropped her hand, and after a few moments he smiled tiredly at her. The knot of anxiety in her gut lessened at the affectionate look in his eyes. It felt surprisingly good to have someone else know the secret she’d kept hidden for over a year. She never thought she’d trust someone enough to tell them about it.

“Thanks for telling me, Rose,” Remus said at last, and, standing, he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her deeply, and she knew all was well between them.

The month of May was speeding by all around her. Despite the stress of her upcoming N.E.W.T.s and the general anxiety of her ever-approaching wedding date, when she was in Remus Lupin’s arms, Rose had never felt so content. Time seemed to no longer be counted in hours or minutes or seconds, but in moments together—in stolen kisses, molten glances, and gentle caresses.

The pair had become so unable to keep their hands off one another over the past few weeks that if Rose sincerely wanted to get any actual studying done, she now had to resign herself to spending time in the crowded library. Though lounging in the arms of Remus Lupin was far preferable to pouring over textbooks or completing homework assignments—Rose had worked hard for her academic achievements and was not about to fail out of her seventh year on his account. That was how she found herself that Wednesday afternoon, sitting at a small table by a window, pouring over her alchemy notes. She had been lucky to grab a table with a window as the room was full to bursting mostly with fifth and seventh-year students. It was drizzling outside, and this had limited options on study areas. Sam, Ava, and Mariko had their charms class at this time, so she had a free period to study.

“Excuse me,” a timid voice asked, drawing Rose out of the depths of her alchemy textbook. Rose looked up to see a shy, rather tired looking Hermione Granger.

“I already told you three that I’ve done all I can about Buckbeak,” Rose tried not to snap at the girl.

“Oh, it’s not that.” Hermione replied quickly and tucked a frizzy curl behind her ear. “I was wondering if I could sit here, everywhere else is full.”

“Sure,” Rose said—much more magnanimously than she felt. But what was she going to do, make the kid sit on the floor? And Hermione was looking so haggard and tired that it made Rose feel a bit sorry for the obviously overworked girl. She quickly shifted some of her textbooks around so that Hermione had space to lay her own books.

“Are you studying arithmancy?” Hermione asked interestedly, sitting down across from her. Rose thought this was a bit of a silly question given the girl could easily see her copy of _Advanced Arithmancy for the N.E.W.T Student_.

“Yep,” Rose said, hoping for a quick end to the conversation.

“I just started the subject this year, it’s already my favorite subject! Professor Vector makes everything so interesting.”

“Glad you’re enjoying it,” Rose said, a small grin tugging at the corner of her lips at Hermione’s obvious enthusiasm. It reminded her of her own early years at Hogwarts in which every new subject filled her with wonder and excitement. Those years when she was especially determined to be the best at everything in order to make her mother and father proud.

“Is it true that at the N.E.W.T.s level you learn how to create your own spells?” Her eyes were wide with curiosity.

“In the second year,” Rose confirmed and slid her textbook over to Hermione. “You’re welcome to look through that if you can get it back to me by Friday. I shouldn’t need it till then.”

“Thank you!” Hermione said sincerely, happily accepting the book and tucking it into an already overflowing bag.

“How many subjects are you taking?” Rose asked incredulously at the site of her bag.

“Twelve,” she answered, her cheeks coloring a delicate pink. Rose blanched at this. A normal schedule for third years was somewhere in the realm of eight to ten classes. She remembered struggling to keep up with the nine she had taken.

“Do you ever sleep?”

“Of course I do,” she insisted, though the bags under her eyes belied her assertion. “Actually, I recently dropped divination, so I suppose I’m only taking eleven now.”

“Good,” Rose responded immediately, and Hermione looked taken aback at this. “Leave yourself time to have fun once in a while. You don’t want to wind up like Percy Weasley.”

“Percy is a great student,” Hermione defended her fellow Gryffindor. “He’s very intelligent.”

“The only things Percy knows anything about come from inside a book. There’s more to life than that, trust me.” Rose replied disdainfully. Percy was famously taking twelve N.E.W.T.s—a feat few students had ever accomplished, and was looking so overworked at this point in the term that he could barely spare a second to speak to anybody. Rose had no idea how he was even getting to all of his classes on time, but this oddity had been a consistent mystery since their third year together and all of their classmates had just accepted it by now. Hermione didn’t look particularly convinced by Rose’s assertion about there being more to life than the inside of a book, and the pair went back to studying quietly together. It was nearly an hour later when another voice interrupted them.

“Sister… Granger,” drawled Draco Malfoy in a disdainful tone of voice. Rose glanced up from her book to see her little brother looking back and forth between the pair of them curiously.

“Draco,” Rose greeted, a warning tone in her voice. Hermione continued to stare into her own textbook, trying her best to ignore her classmate. Rose suddenly felt incredibly stupid for allowing herself to be seen in such a public place with a Gryffindor muggle-born who was also famously one of Harry Potter’s best friends. If her parents were asking Severus Snape about what was going on with her, there was no way they hadn’t asked Draco as well, and this situation would just be adding fuel to the fire.

“Lupin asked me to give this to you,” he said, offering her a note. His tone of voice clearly indicated how he felt about being asked to deliver messages.

“Thank you,” Rose said, taking the note and looking it over.

‘ _Rose, if you’re free please meet me in my office this afternoon to talk about the final exam for my third-year classes—I could use your help getting it ready. –Professor Lupin’_

Standing up, she slung her bag over her shoulder and headed towards the door.

“Thanks for letting me sit with you,” Hermione called after her, but Rose acted like she didn’t hear and quickly swept from the room.

“Why were you sharing a table with that mudblood,” Draco asked coldly, following after her.

“I wasn’t sitting _with_ her—there were no other spaces available. You’d know how crowded it’s been if you ever studied for your own exams. Don’t forget how disappointed father has been in your academic performance the past two years,” Rose quickly redirected the conversation. From the skeptical look in Draco’s eyes, she wasn’t sure it had worked.


	40. Chapter 40

_“It well may be that in a difficult hour,  
Pinned down by pain and moaning for release,  
Or nagged by want past resolution’s power,  
I might be driven to sell your love for peace,  
Or trade the memory of this night for food.  
It well may be. I do not think I would.”_

\- Edna St. Vincent Millay [Love is Not All]

The warm summer night was dark; illuminated only by a great expanse of stars and the waxing moon as it crept over the mountains. Rose took a deep breath, enjoying the scents of fading spring blossoms and the wind that swept up the earthy and watery scents of the Black Lake. The breeze whipped at their robes while they crossed the rolling hills of the ground towards the body of water, and she felt giddy and alive in the night air. Hooking her index finger around Remus’ pinky, she smiled up at him as they walked, and the grin he gave her in return caused her heart to flip in her chest.

He paused when they crested the hill, and, glancing back at the castle to be sure they were far enough away from any prying eyes, leaned in and pressed his lips to her own. They were soft and warm against her skin and set her body tingling from her head to toe. When they broke away, the boyish smile she so adored was fixed to his face, his gray-streaked hair shining silver in the moonlight. Wrapping his hand fully around her own, he led her down to the misty edges of the lake.

“It’s a perfect night, the mists are already out,” he observed. Rose glanced about the shore keenly, looking for the flicker of lights. The previous week they had scoured the dungeons for redcaps, and Remus had obtained permission to bring Rose out that night to hunt for a hinkypunk for the final for his third-years. The mists that rolled in from the warm air hitting the still cool water of the lake were the perfect environment for the mischievous creatures.

“Remus,” she whispered, leaning into his side and pointing off to their right. “Over there.”

A pale light flickered in the mists, dancing lazily around the shore. Both Rose and Lupin drew their wands silently. Remus released her hand so the two could flank the creature. She did her best to keep one eye on the light and one on the ground she tread on. She knew that the hinkypunk would try its best to lead them into danger. This would be easy to avoid if they were not also trying to capture the hinkypunk. The creature’s misty body blended into the mists so completely as to be almost indiscernible, only the small lantern it carried became clearly visible as they came closer.

“Lumos maxima,” Lupin said quietly and his wandtip lit with an intense bright light. In that moment, Rose could clearly see the misty body of the hinkypunk which stumbled back in surprise at the sudden bright light. Rose inscribed tiny circles with her wand and conjured a glass jar around the stunned creature, stepping forward quickly to stopper it with a cork. The hinkypunk beat against the glass with its misty fists in obvious anger.

“Excellent job,” he said, scooping the jar up with one arm and offering her his other. Rose took it happily and leaned into his side while they walked, letting her head rest against his shoulder. “Are you ready for your exams?”

“I think so. Other than feeling a bit nauseous every time I remember they start this week,” Rose smiled.

“You’re going to do great,” he told her confidently. “Let me know if it’s too much and you don’t have time to help with setting up my exam. I can do it on my own; I just enjoy spending time with you.”

“It will make for a nice study break,” Rose assured him, grinning at the knowledge that he enjoyed being around her as much as she did him. “Are you going to be alright with the full moon coming up at the end of the week?”

“Don’t worry about me, pet,” he reassured, his warm eyes shining in the pale light of the moon.

“Of course I’m going to worry about you, silly man,” she objected with a smile. They paused and he dropped her hand so that he could lift his own and run the backs of his fingers across her cheek, looking at her with an expression she couldn’t name. Whatever it was, it made her heart flutter wildly.

“I haven’t had anyone to do that for me in a very long time,” he said, and she knew now that the look he gave her was one of both deep sadness and profound happiness. Grasping his hand, she returned it to their side squeezing it affectionately.

“You’ll just have to get used to it,” Rose informed him.

“I really think I could,” he chuckled, and the pair continued their walk up to the castle. Rose could feel the warm blush rising into her cheeks at his response. She wondered if maybe, just maybe he was reconsidering allowing her to see him after the end of the year, but she was too much of a coward to ask.

“You do look better than you normally do before a full moon,” she observed. Remus’ face still held its usual tiredness, but none of the deep exhaustion that she’d seen in previous months.

“It feels like it will be an easy one… _easier_ anyways.”

“You can tell this early?”

“Sometimes. It can be tricky though.”

“Do we have to go back right away,” Rose asked as they approached the hill that would lead up to the path that would take them to the castle entrance.

“It’s probably not wise to linger too long, Rose, exams begin tomorrow you should get some rest,” he said kindly, but paused when she did all the same. Rose looked over the grounds—at the lake reflecting the milky way like a dark mirror, at the mountain range illuminated in pale moonlight, at the forests that spread around the valley for miles. Remus set the captured hinkypunk down in the grass, and she felt his arms wrap around her waist from behind. She leaned back into his chest, enjoying the warmth of his body.

“I can’t believe it’s almost over,” and she wasn’t sure if she meant being a student at Hogwarts or their time together. His embrace tightened, and she knew he wasn’t sure either. “It’s kind of terrifying.”

“I remember that feeling. But it’s just another chapter—one you get to start writing for yourself,” he said, resting his chin on the crown of her head.

“Was it like that for you?”

“Well… when I left Hogwarts we were in the middle of a war—one we were losing. But even so, those first years with Lily, James, Peter… and Sirius, they were some of the best of my life. Then Dumbledore sent me to the colonies,” he trailed off at the memory.

“The colonies?” Rose questioned, tilting her head to look up at him.

“Werewolf colonies. I’m one of the few who still tries to fit in with normal wizarding society, most of my kind band together and do their best to survive on their own. Back then Voldemort was recruiting heavily amongst werewolves,” he explained, and Rose tried not to flinch too hard when he used the Dark Lord’s name. “Dumbledore wanted me to keep an eye on things.”

“How could he ask you to do that,” Rose questioned angrily, her resentment towards Dumbledore spilling out slightly.

“We all had to do our part, Rose,” he chastised, clearly taken aback by her tone of voice.

“I’m sorry, I just… I’m not the biggest fan of his methods,” she said diplomatically.

“They can be hard to understand at times, but we have to trust that he knows what he’s doing,” he said. Rose found this a rather large pill to swallow given that his methods had led to her physical and mental abuse for two years and would have demanded far longer had those plans not gone awry, but she didn’t argue the point. Dumbledore had given him a place at Hogwarts after all, first as a student and now as a teacher.

“How long were you there?” Rose asked curiously.

“A year.”

“ _A year_ ,” she exclaimed in surprise.

“It wasn’t so bad. I certainly missed being among friends, but at least I was around others who understood what it was like to have my condition. Some days in the wizarding world can feel much lonelier,” he gave her a chagrinned smile, and Rose twisted in his arms so that she could embrace him in return. He ran his hand gently through her hair. “My greatest regret is that I was there when… when it happened. By the time I heard the news it was already all over, James, Lily, and Peter were all dead, you and Harry were taken, and Sirius was on trial for murder. In the end I was useless.”

“You weren’t useless,” Rose said into his chest, and she felt his arms tighten around her at the words.

“Some days I wonder… if I’d been there, maybe I could have stopped it all from happening,” he mused quietly, and she could hear the choked sound in his voice of tears being held back. Rose looked up at him and kissed his scarred cheek.

“Remus, if you’d been there, he would have killed you too, and I would never have met you,” she smiled sadly at him, and leaning in, he kissed her deeply. When they broke away, his dark mood seemed to have passed.

“I expected you to say something cheeky. When did you get so serious,” he asked, and Rose grinned at him.

“Sorry, can I have a do-over?”

“Just this once,” he allowed.

“Remus, you need to do something about that big head of yours, you’re hardly that important,” she said in her teasing tone of voice, and a grin tugged at the corner of his lips.

“There’s the quip I expected,” he laughed. The pair turned at the sound of the bell chiming out twelve strokes. “I think it’s time we both get some sleep.”

Rose held his hand for as long as she dared as they walked to the castle. She had always sensed the deep melancholy within Remus Lupin, but he’d rarely spoke with her about it before. She had never really considered how on the same day she had lost her own family, Remus had really lost his as well—all of his dearest friends suddenly stripped away from him without warning. At least she’d had Lucius and Narcissa to rescue her from the deep sadness and loneliness. He’d had no one at all. Gripping his hand tighter, Rose dared to hope that maybe, just maybe, he had someone now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always craved more of Remus Lupin's backstory and what he was doing and what it was like for him when Voldemort killed James and Lily, hope you like my take on it. You're welcome/I'm sorry for throwing a bunch of fluffy chapters at you in a row, we're getting back into the main plot starting next chapter, but I thought Remus and Rose deserved some cute happy moments given it took 36 chapters for them to get together to begin with.


	41. Chapter 41

**Chapter 41**

_Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black_   
_And the dark street winds and bends._   
_Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow_   
_We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,_   
_And watch where the chalk-white arrows go_   
_To the place where the sidewalk ends._

\- Shel Silverstein [Where the Sidewalk Ends]

Months ago, it had felt like their exams would never arrive and the middle of term would simply drag on forever. Now that the week of exams had at last arrived it all seemed to have happened so quickly. The castle seemed to have suddenly been plunged into an anxious quiet as students spent most of their free time trying to cram in last minute studying. Rose, Mariko, Sam, and Ava were constantly together either quizzing each other or practicing spells for their practical exams.

After her morning Herbology exam—which included having to harvest leaves, juices, and thorns from venomous tentacula without being bitten, stung, or grabbed—Rose helped Remus set up the obstacle course for his third-years. While he walked about the area setting up various enchantments to contain the creatures he’d be adding to the course on the days of the examinations, Rose worked to transfigure the landscape. One section became a series of potted pits for the redcaps, another a deep pool for the grindylow, and another a low marshy section for the hinkypunk. With the two working together, the task took less than half an hour to complete.

As the week wore on, Rose began feeling more and more confident even as she grew more and more tired. She’d had great success in dueling during her Defense Against the Dark Arts practical—able to demonstrate both nonverbal spells and even wandless magic when she’d summoned her wand back to her hand after the examiner had disarmed her. She was sure she’d written thorough answers on her theory of Alchemy exam explaining the four stages necessary for the creation of a philosopher’s stone and the corresponding metaphysical journey which had to accompany it. In arithmancy she’d been able to describe the significance of numerology and Latin for spell making and demonstrate some of her own spells she had created that year such as _fulminantia este_ which would manifest a miniature thunderstorm and _apricorum_ which she could use to fill a glass jar with a bright beam of sunlight. Transfiguration had been a complete success, and she’d been able to transform into her animagus form for her examiner when requested—she’d even managed it nonverbally, though still with the use of her wand.

To make the week feel like an even greater success, midway through it she received an owl from Damien offering her an apprenticeship pending her final N.E.W.T. scores. She’d happily written back and accepted. By the time her final exam ended Thursday afternoon, Rose was feeling on top of the world. Leaving the exam hall, she felt free and light like she could do anything. She’d have a week of relaxing after the exams, with plenty of time to spend with Remus, and at that moment she just knew that in that time she could convince him to let them keep seeing each other. Realizing that Lupin’s third-year class would be going through their exam, Rose decided to wander out of the hall and see if she could make it in time to watch Draco work his way through the obstacle course. But she never made it that far.

Standing in the courtyard, looking out over the grounds was the unmistakable figure of Cornelius Fudge with two other wizards. The older wizard she didn’t recognize, but the middle-aged one fingering an axe in his belt was unmistakably Walden Macnair—an old friend of her father’s. Rose didn’t know Macnair very well as he was rarely invited to the manor because Narcissa found his profession as an executioner repugnant, but she’d seen him enough times to know his face. Any relief she felt at the absence of Lucius Malfoy, was replaced with dread at Macnair’s presence; they’d already made up their minds. As she stared at the three men, Harry, Ron, and Hermione made their way into the courtyard from the grounds having presumably just finished their Defense Against the Dark Arts exam. She listened, frozen, while Fudge greeted Harry, and began telling him that he was there as a witness for the execution of Buckbeak.

“Does that mean the appeal’s already happened?” Ron interrupted the conversation.

“No, no, it’s scheduled for this afternoon.”

“Then the hippogriff might still get off,” the redhead continued. It looked as if he might say more, but Hermione grabbed his sleeve and began dragging him towards the castle entrance. The three of them looked at her with wide eyes and white faces as they passed, and Rose swallowed uncomfortably.

‘ _This is stupid_ ,’ she thought to herself even while she walked towards the trio of wizards. Perhaps it was because of the overconfidence she felt from a successful week of tests or from not wanting her excitement about graduating Hogwarts to be marred by the sadness she’d feel if Buckbeak were executed. Whatever the reason, Rose walked up to the Minister of Magic and smiled charmingly.

“Hello Minister, what an unexpected pleasure to see you here,” she greeted.

“Ah, Miss Malfoy,” he shook her hand. She saw the older wizard—presumably one of the committee members—give a small start at her last name. “Lovely to see you again, how are your parents?”

“They are both in excellent health, thank you. I’ll be sure to let them know you asked after them,” she said.

“See that you do, dear girl, see that you do. I’ve heard from young Dolohov that a certain happy event is fast approaching….”

“Oh yes, on the 26th, we’re both very excited.”

“Wonderful, simply wonderful.”

“Minister, Miss Malfoy, sorry to interrupt, but it is getting close to two o’clock,” the committee-member interjected.

“You’re quite right,” Fudge answered him. “Well, Miss Malfoy, we must be off. Unfortunate business this.”

“You’re here for the appeal, right? You’ll be going to Professor Hagrid’s? Allow me to show you the way,” Rose looped her arm through Fudge’s and began to walk him out towards the grounds.

“How thoughtful,” he said in a rather taken aback tone of voice as the other two men hurried to catch up to them.

“I’m sure your father will be glad to know that justice will soon be had for your brother,” the committee member said as they walked. Rose gave him a pleasant smile.

“Oh, I’m not sure he’s particularly invested in the outcome—after all it was only a scratch, and Draco should have listened to Professor Hagrid,” Rose could feel Macnair’s eyes boring into her as she said this.

“I must say I’m surprised to hear that; he seemed most… displeased at the initial trial,” the man said skeptically.

“He was definitely angry at first—Draco is his baby boy after all but, now that he’s had more time to think about it, I believe he’s seeing it as a valuable learning experience for Draco,” Rose said, wondering if the three could smell the bullshit she was currently spewing. Macnair could—of that she was certain, but she didn’t need to convince him. She was concerned how her father would react when he found out about this, but that was a worry for future Rose to deal with.

“Hmm,” the man said, and the three fell into silence. Rose wasn’t sure she’d been entirely convincing but didn’t want to push too hard either. Rose released Fudge’s arm as they approached Hagrid’s cabin.

“Thank you for escorting us,” Fudge said kindly while the committee member went up to the door and knocked.

It swung open almost instantly and a white-faced Hagrid ushered the three men into his house. Rose gave him what she hoped was an encouraging smile which he returned before closing the door behind him. Rose waffled between staying to hear the outcome of the trial and going back to the castle. She settled for pacing back and forth on the lawn outside his house. A few minutes later, she looked up to the sound of footsteps hurrying towards her. Professor Dumbledore was walking quickly down the path towards Hagrid’s hut. He gave her an appraising look but didn’t stop to chat instead going straight into the house.

Rose resumed her pacing. It was nearly half an hour later that loud wailing sobs poured out of the house, and her heart dropped. The door quickly opened, and Fudge walked out, his hands pressed over his ears. He was followed closely by Macnair and then by the committee member.

“We’ll be back at sunset for the execution. That will give you time to say goodbye to the beast,” the man said over his shoulder, quickly closing the door against the earsplitting sobs. Rose stared at the three while they walked past her—neither Fudge nor the committee member meeting her eye. Macnair however looked straight at her and gave her a malicious grin that made her shiver.

‘ _It was all for nothing_ ,’ she thought angrily when the three disappeared over the hill. She’d stuck her neck out and in the end the outcome was just as if she’d done nothing at all. She should have never gotten involved to begin with. Rose kicked at a clump of grass moodily, her earlier feelings of confidence and success utterly squashed.

‘ _I should go_ ,’ she thought, walking up to Hagrid’s front door. ‘ _I’m sure I’m the last person he wants to see right now._ ’

Rapping on the door loudly to be heard over the sobs, Rose listened to footsteps moving across the room. She stepped back in surprise when Dumbledore opened the door and looked down his long crooked nose at her.

“Miss Malfoy,” he greeted, pushing the door open wider. “What a surprise.”

Rose walked in, feeling especially nervous in the Headmaster’s presence. She was greeted by the strangest sight she’d ever seen. A large gray hippogriff was laying on what she assumed was Hagrid’s bed, and the man himself had buried his face into the creature’s neck and was sobbing into its feathers. The hippogriff was nibbling affectionately at his wild black hair.

“Oh, Beaky!” she could hear him exclaim between sobs.

“Our friend is, understandably, most upset,” Dumbledore observed to her.

“I’m sorry,” she half-whispered, unsure exactly what she was apologizing for.

“Whatever for,” he asked, keen blue eyes meeting her own.

“It wasn’t enough… it didn’t matter,” she said, her eyes dropping to the floor. One of his aged hands touched her shoulder gently, and Rose looked back up at him.

“My dear, Rose, in my rather long life, I have found that making the simple decision to care is something which matters a great deal,” he told her. Rose swallowed thickly and for a moment she wanted to ask him why he hadn’t made that choice when it had come to caring about her twelve years ago.

“Yes sir,” she said instead. Some emotion she didn’t catch flickered across his face, and she wondered if he knew what she’d been thinking.

“I have to return to the castle to discuss some important matters with the minister. I will return at sunset, I want to be with you when the time comes,” he said loudly enough that Hagrid could hear this as well. His sobs lessened in intensity. “Rose, I wonder if you’d be willing to stay and look after our dear Rubeus—at least until he’s calmed down a bit.”

“Of course Headmaster,” Rose agreed instantly. She could feel the apprehensive look that was now fixed to her face. She was not the most compassionate caregiver and didn’t really want to be in the cabin any longer than was absolutely necessary. Dumbledore patted her shoulder and walked out of the hut.

“Hagrid,” Rose said tentatively, stepping towards him. The hippogriff leveled its dark eyes on her, and she froze, not wanting to get any closer to the beast. Turning around, Hagrid looked at her with red rimmed eyes, his face and beard wet from tears, snot leaking from his nose into his mustache—Rose looked away fast. Without thinking she swirled a hand in the air and conjured a large white handkerchief. Holding out the lace-trimmed fabric, she offered it to him. Hagrid quickly wiped his face with the kerchief and blew his nose into it noisily.

“Hagrid, I’m so sorry,” she said.

“S’alright, Rose, ‘ermione told me what yeh did ter try an help,” he replied with a watery smile. “I need ter send her a letter sayin’ what happened.”

“Let me do that, Hagrid,” Rose offered when she saw how badly his hands were shaking. Nodding, he let her take the quill and parchment from his hands, and she wrote the message he dictated to her. When she had sent that off, Rose busied herself hanging a kettle over the fire and getting out two mugs for them. Seeing a bottle of firewhiskey in his cabinet, she poured a generous shot into their tea for good measure. The pair sat at his kitchen table silently for a while sipping unenthusiastically at their spiked tea. Hagrid seemed to have cried himself out and now seemed merely pale and dazed.

“I—I’m gonna take Beaky ou’side, let ‘im enjoy some fresh air,” he mumbled, after finishing the tea. Rose stood with him and followed him out to the pumpkin patch, giving the hippogriff a wide berth. He tied the creature to a stake in the middle of the patch and fed him a few dead ferrets, patting his head affectionately. Rose stood to the side; her arms crossed over her chest to keep herself from fidgeting too much.

“Did yeh wan’ teh meet ‘im?” Hagrid asked suddenly, and Rose swallowed rapidly. She did not want to meet him.

“I’d love to,” she said, stepping forward hesitantly. Buckbeak squawked aggressively at her, and she hastily stepped back.

“Nothin’ ter worry abou’. Yeh jus’ need ter bow is all.”

“Oh,” Rose gasped squeakily. She bowed low to the hippogriff, her hair falling over her shoulders in long curls. She held her breath for the near minute it took the creature to decide to bow back. Encouraged by Hagrid’s smile she walked towards them both slowly.

“Yeh can touch ‘im if yeh like,” he encouraged with a small sad smile. Rose didn’t think she’d like that very much but lifted a shaking hand slowly towards the beast. To her surprise, Buckbeak pressed his beak into her palm, nuzzling it affectionately. Hagrid burst into a fresh round of tears at this, and Rose felt her own eyes going slightly misty. Reaching up, she patted Hagrid on his arm—she couldn’t reach any higher.

“He’s a good boy, Beaky, he don’ deserve this,” Hagrid sobbed into the lace handkerchief. Rose found her throat too tight to say anything and could only squeeze his arm comfortingly, blinking back tears as she tried to look anywhere else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to thank all of you who have been reading and especially those who have been commenting. It really means more than I can express.


	42. Chapter 42

_"As I went down the hill along the wall  
There was a gate I had leaned at for the view  
And had just turned from when I first saw you  
As you came up the hill. We met."_

\- Robert Frost [Meeting and Passing]

The two returned to the cabin after a while, leaving Buckbeak in the pumpkin patch to enjoy the beautiful day. Rose sat and listened while Hagrid recounted stories of befriending the herd of hippogriffs in the forest. He reminisced about the day he first met Buckbeak and how he’d been the cleverest of the lot. As hours rolled by, Hagrid seemed to have cried himself out and looked more numb and forlorn than ever. Rose knew that sunset was fast approaching. She also knew it was best that she not be there when Macnair and the others returned—it wouldn’t do to have him know she’d stayed the whole time. But every time she thought of going, she’d take another look at the giant of a man and couldn’t bear the idea of leaving him alone. As the sun began to creep low over the mountains, a knock came from the door making the two of them jump nervously.

“It can’t be them,” Rose said while Hagrid walked to the door. “I haven’t seen anyone come down the hill.”

Rose was only mildly surprised when she heard the voice of Harry Potter say, “It’s us, we’re wearing the invisibility cloak.”

“Yeh shouldn’ve come,’ Hagrid told the disembodied voice in a hoarse whisper but stepped aside all the same.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione suddenly materialized in the room. Rose had seen Harry’s invisibility cloak two years ago when he had insisted she come with him to the Mirror of Erised and so he could show her the young redheaded girl and the woman who looked so much like her who stood in it. Rose had not seen them of course, and Harry had made her swear to tell no one about the cloak. She’d never had a reason to break his confidence on that particular subject.

“What is she doing here,” Harry said, his eyes traveling to Rose accusingly.

“Excuse you, Potter,” Rose said back, feeling anger rising in her stomach. “I tried to help.”

“Didn’t try hard enough did you?” He snapped back. “It’s your prat brother’s fault this is happening in the first place—”

“Stop it,” Hagrid interrupted the argument before it could escalate. “Yer parents would be turnin’ in their graves knowin’ their kids treat each other like that.”

Rose and Harry glowered at each other across the room but didn’t resume the fight, and Hagrid began bustling about the cabin to get tea for everyone.

“Where’s Buckbeak, Hagrid,” Hermione interrupted the tense silence, glancing over at Hagrid’s empty bed.

‘ _How long did he keep that bird in here?_ ’ Rose wondered to herself.

“We tied him up outside in the pumpkin patch. Thought he oughta see the trees an’ smell the fresh air before…” Trailing off, Hagrid dropped the milk jar he was holding, and it shattered on the floor. Hermione jumped up to help before Rose could, and Hagrid sat heavily in a chair, dabbing his sweaty forehead with the handkerchief she’d given him.

“Can’t Dumbledore do something, Hagrid,” Harry asked him cautiously. Both he and Ron were looking at the man like he might shatter at any moment just like the milk jug.

“He tried, but he’s got no power ter overrule the committee. Yeh know what Lucius Malfoy’s like, threatened ‘em I expect…” he trailed off and glanced at Rose who just stared at her feet silently. “Dumbledore’s gonna come down when it happens, said he wants ter be with me. Great man.”

“We’ll stay with you too Hagrid,” Hermione said though a sob.

“Yeh’ll all go back up ter the castle. I don’t wan’ yeh watchin’. An’ Rose an’ Harry, yeh’d both be in big trouble if they caught yeh out this late without permission.”

In order to stifle her tears, Hermione picked up another milk jug and cried out in shock when she opened the lid. “Ron! Ron, it’s Scabbers!”

Rose, who had no idea what a Scabbers was, let out a sound of disgust when Ron pulled a mangey looking rat from the jug.

“What the hell is that?”

“Scabbers, calm down, what are you doing here?” Ron asked the rat, ignoring Rose completely. The rat was wriggling frantically in his grip.

“Yeh gotta go,” Hagrid said suddenly, standing up and looking out the window. “They’re comin’.”

Rose could see he was right. Four wizards were now walking down the grassy path towards the cabin, Macnair’s axe glinting ominously in the fading light. He ushered the four of them to the back door and pushed them out of it. Buckbeak looked at the five of them from his spot in the pumpkin patch and gave a nervous squawk.

“Go on,” Hagrid told them all. Rose took a couple steps from the cabin before realizing the other three hadn’t moved.

“Hagrid we can’t go!”

“We can tell them how it really happened!”

“They just can’t kill Buckbeak!”

“Go,” Hagrid said fiercely, glancing nervously back to the front door where someone was knocking. Rose set her hand on Harry’s shoulder.

“There’s nothing more we can do. Let’s go, we’ll only get him into trouble if we stay.” She saw the boy blink back tears before he nodded and pulled out his cloak. The fabric barely fit over the four of them, and Rose had to crouch as she walked to keep their feet from showing. They hurried around the cabin and up the sloping ground, but their progress was impeded by Ron stopping every few feet to get a better hold of Scabbers.

“Scabbers, knock it off you idiot,” he told the squirming squeaking rat.

“Shut him up, Ron,” Rose hissed at him. “They’ll hear us.”

“Oh please, let’s get out of here,” Hermione said, her face whiter than Hagrid’s had been. The four of them froze at the sudden sound of an axe swinging down and embedding itself into something with a loud _thunk_. Rose grabbed Hermione’s shoulders as she swayed in a near faint. She felt sick to her stomach as they heard Hagrid’s raucous sobs drift across the lawn towards them. And then a great many things happened at once.

“Hagrid,” Harry said in dismay, turning and starting back towards the cabin.

“Scabbers, ouch!” Ron exclaimed, dropping the rat who had bit him hard.

The rat streaked out from beneath the cloak and down the lawn. Rose had just pulled Harry back by his back of his robes when Ron ran out after Scabbers and an orange cat ran across their path and down the slope after them.

“Crookshanks, no!” Hermione shouted, running after the cat. “No, leave him alone!”

Rose and Harry locked eyes and they both took off after Ron and Hermione, Harry pulling the cloak from their bodies as he did so.

“Get back here, you stupid children,” Rose muttered under her breath while they ran, and if Harry heard he gave no sign of it. At the bottom of the hill she could just make out through the gathering darkness that Ron was sprawled on the ground. Both of his hands were pressed tightly over his breast pocket where she assumed the rat now was. He was kicking ineffectually at the cat who was leaping easily out of the way at each attempt.

“Ron! Dumbledore, the Minister, they’ll be coming out any second,” Hermione said shrilly.

Both Harry and Rose turned at the sound of pounding feet on the grass. For one wild moment, Rose thought that someone who’d been in Hagrid’s house had seen what was happening and given chase. But when she turned, she saw the enormous black dog running across the lawn towards them. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Harry raise his wand, and Rose made a grab for it.

“No! He’s friendly,” she said just in time for the dog to jump and slam into the pair of them knocking them to the ground like bowling pins. Rose lay in the grass, staring up at the sky that was quickly descending into dusk, trying to catch her breath. A scream of pain was enough to jar her into rolling over on her stomach and watch in disbelief as the previously innocuous dog dragged Ron away by his ankle. Harry was already on his feet and running after his friend, but without warning a tree limb swung down and hit him hard in the stomach. Rose, Harry, and Hermione all winced at the loud crack of Ron’s ankle breaking when the dog tore him free of a tree root and dragged him under the Whomping Willow and out of sight. Rose struggled to her feet and turned to run back towards the castle.

“Where are you going,” Harry shouted at her.

“This is—this is insane,” she said breathlessly, still winded from the dog. “We need help.”

“We don’t have time,” he snapped at her. “Are you going to help us or not?”

“Please Rose,” Hermione said desperately, her brown eyes wide with fear. Rose looked between the two of them and the castle indecisively, and Harry huffed in derision.

“Come on Hermione, we’ll have to do this ourselves,” Harry said, turning away from her—it was clear he thought she was a coward. Drawing her wand, Rose felt anger fill her body with a sudden resolve, but she still couldn’t stop her hand from trembling.

“One of you grab my wand and follow if you can,” Rose said. Placing her wand tip at her heart, Rose transformed into a fox. Her wand fell to the ground and she darted across the lawn, jumped a couple swipes from the tree, and dashed down the hole into a long dark tunnel.

‘ _You’re being reckless again_ ,’ a voice said in her mind, but Rose ignored it. The dog had always treated her with such gentleness before, she was sure when she got there that she could calm it down even without her wand.

Though the tunnel was dark she could see well enough with her fox’s eyes, and even if the tunnel hadn’t been one straight sloping line, she would have been able to find the way by following the obvious smell of blood in the air. Merlin, she hoped Ron was alive when she got to him. It took several minutes before the tunnel began to slope up and opened into a ramshackle house. Rose paused at the entrance to transform back into a human—she didn’t want the dog to think she was dinner too.

As quietly as she could she crept up the stairs and pushed the door open to a very dirty bedroom. The walls were covered in deep gouges and the furniture looked as though something had gnawed on it, and remembering Remus’ story about his time at Hogwarts, she realized they must be inside the Shrieking Shack. Laying in the corner beside the bed was Ron Weasley, moaning in pain but still clutching his hands to his pocket. He looked up in relief when he saw her enter and nodded to the wall opposite him. Turning, Rose saw the great black dog sitting there, he no longer looked aggressive, instead it seemed like he’d been waiting for her. Glancing down, she saw that one of his front paws was resting on Ron’s wand—it must have fallen out of his pocket and rolled over to him. If she could get the wand, she could stun the dog and get Ron out of here.

“Hey there,” she said soothingly, stepping slowly towards him. “Remember me? It’s okay. What’s gotten into you today? Time to go back to being a good boy—”

She froze when the dog began to morph and grow in front of her eyes; the large black dog disappearing into the gaunt form of an all too familiar man. For a moment, a vivid memory of a handsome young man with dark curling hair picking her up and sitting her in front of him on the seat of a large motorcycle flashed through her mind. She was giggling and reaching for the handlebars, and he leaned the bike from side to side while she pretended to drive it. The almost skull-like face that she saw now was barely recognizable as the same man.

“I am such an idiot,” Rose murmured—her throat dry from fear. She heard Ron’s panicked shouts behind her but couldn’t focus on what he was saying. Instead, her eyes were locked on the wand in Sirius’ hand; the wand he was pointing directly at her. To her surprise, he didn’t curse her or even look like he wanted to, instead he gave her a tired, strained smile.

“Hello Rosie,” he said in a hoarse voice.

“Sirius,” she returned cautiously.

“It’s good to see you again.”

And even though she was shaking and even though he was pointing a wand at her, Rose couldn’t help saying, “I think I preferred you as a dog.”


	43. Chapter 43

_“I won't tell you where the place is, the dark mesh of the woods  
meeting the unmarked strip of light—  
ghost-ridden crossroads, leafmold paradise:  
I know already who wants to buy it, sell it, make it disappear._

_And I won't tell you where it is, so why do I tell you  
anything? Because you still listen, because in times like these  
to have you listen at all, it's necessary  
to talk about trees.”_

\- Adrienne Rich [What Kind of Times Are These]

The barking laugh that came from Sirius’ mouth at her statement was so unexpected that it made Rose jump.

“Still your father’s daughter, I see,” he said, and the smile on his face darkened, his eyes shifting to Ron. Rose’s eyes flickered to the door while she thought he was distracted, but he quickly tisked at her. “None of that now. Why don’t you go stand over there while we wait for the other two.”

“They’ve gone to get help,” Rose lied, backing up next to Ron. She was hoping he’d decide to run for it while he had time.

“We’ll see,” he said unconcernedly. “But I doubt it.”

“Are you okay,” Rose glanced at Ron. He nodded slowly, his eyes continuing to fixate on the murderer across from them. Glancing back to Black, Rose met his eyes and said, “I’m going to help him sit on the bed.”

“Mind the rat,” Sirius said with a nod.

“The rat…?” Rose’s question trailed off as she bent down and slung Ron’s arm around her shoulders. She got him to his feet and helped him sit on the dusty bed. Something strange was going on here. This was not the type of encounter she’d expected with Sirius Black. Was he being kind to her because he knew she was being raised by fellow Death Eaters? But he’d compared her to James Potter only moments ago. Something wasn’t right. Rose shook her head—maybe she was overthinking it. He was likely insane from Azkaban.

“Not a word,” he said at the sound of movement downstairs. Crookshanks walked into the room and hopped up on the bed, purring contentedly. Black slunk into the corner behind the door. She was at a loss as to how to warn Harry and Hermione to get out. Before she could decide what to do, the door had been shoved open and Harry and Hermione were dashing across the room towards them.

“Ron, are you okay?”

“Where’s the dog?”

“Not a dog, it’s a trap. He’s the dog, he’s an animagus,” Ron shouted. The pair spun around and were immediately disarmed by Black. Rose was irritated to watch her own wand—which Hermione had been holding, fly across the room and be caught by him.

“I thought you’d come and help your friend,” he said, taking a step towards Harry. “Brave of you, it’s what your father would have done for me.”

Hermione grabbed the back of Harry’s robes when he started towards the man and dragged him back. Rose who hadn’t thought he’d try something so stupid hadn’t had time to react. She was distracted from telling Harry off by Ron struggling to stand.

“If you want to kill Harry, you’ll have to kill us too,” he said. Rose thought Ron was taking quite a few liberties with that statement—she didn’t really want to die for anyone.

“No, only one will die tonight,” Black answered.

“What’s the matter,” Harry snarled. “Gone soft in Azkaban.”

“Harry, shut-up,” Rose hissed, and the boy turned angry green eyes on her.

“He killed our mom and dad!”

And without any warning he leapt forward, breaking free of Hermione’s grip and wrestled Black to the ground. Rose was in such a state of shock at the idiocy of what was happening that she didn’t move when Ron and Hermione ran forward as well and began punching and kicking at any part of Black they could find. Rose heard their wands clatter to the floor and lunged for her own. By the time she stood back up, Harry was holding his own wand, pointing it at Black who was sprawled in the floor. Hermione was helping Ron back onto the bed.

“Going to kill me Harry?”

“You killed my parents,” Harry accused through gritted teeth.

“I don’t deny it, but if you knew the whole story—”

“You sold them to Voldemort! That’s all I need to know,” Harry cut him off, clenching his wand tighter.

“You’ve got to listen to me; you don’t understand,” Black said, staring up at him out of dark sunken eyes, and Rose once again was overcome with the feeling that something was going on here that they weren’t getting. Typical Gryffindors, so firm in their beliefs all while missing key pieces of information.

“You never had to hear my mum, begging for Voldemort to kill her instead! Never had to hear her pleading with him.” There were tears of rage in his eyes now, and his wand hand was shaking violently. Rose cautiously stepped forward and placed her hands on Harry’s shoulders. He jumped and glanced up at her out of the corner of his eye, his gaze hostile.

“Listen to me little brother,” she said soothingly. “The same woman you hear when the dementors get close… that woman, _our mother_ , she wouldn’t have wanted you to become a murderer.”

“He killed her,” he said in a choked voice.

“No Harry, V—Voldemort killed her,” Rose stammered out the Dark Lord’s name. “He killed her twelve years ago. The question is, how are you going to honor her memory now?”

Green eyes met hazel ones, and she knew she had him. He let his wand fall ever so slightly just as the door burst open, and Remus Lupin ran into the room.

“Expelliarmus!” he shouted with such force that he hit both of them with the spell, their wands flying across the room to be caught deftly in his hands. For a moment, Remus stood there panting from his run across the grounds, then he moved forward and wrapped Rose and Harry in a tight embrace—one arm around each of them. Rose let out a shaky breath, clinging to his robes. She hadn’t realized how exhausted she was until that moment; they were safe now, he was here.

“Where is he, Sirius?” Remus asked, pulling away from the embrace. Rose saw Harry give Lupin an expression that was as confused as she now felt. She watched Sirius lift one hand and point silently at Ron.

‘ _What the hell is going on?_ ’

“But then why hasn’t he shown himself—unless, unless _he_ was the one. Unless you switched without telling me,” Remus asked in a pained voice. Black nodded his head. And then the most unexpected thing happened. Remus crossed the floor, pulled Sirius to his feet, and embraced him like a long-lost brother.

Rose felt her mind swirling with a tempest of emotions. All she could do for a moment was stare in confusion, and then anger began to edge the haze of confusion out of her mind. Had Severus been right this whole time? Had Remus been helping Sirius? Had his concern for hers and Harry’s safety and his own sadness over the loss of his friend all been manufactured? Surely, surely that couldn’t be the case… could it? When Remus broke away from Black, his eyes immediately found hers and read the emotions there, and he opened his mouth to speak.

“I don’t believe it!” Hermione shrieked, cutting off whatever he was going to say. Rose half-turned to the girl in bewilderment. “I’ve been covering up for you! I didn’t tell anyone!”

“Hermione,” Remus began in a placating voice but was cut off once more.

“I trusted you, and all this time you’ve been his friend!” Harry shouted, putting the emotions Rose was feeling into words better than she could.

“This is a misunderstanding,” he said pleadingly, his eyes flicking to Rose’s for support. Rose crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows at him. “I haven’t been helping Sirius, but I am now—”

“No! Harry, don’t trust him. He’s been helping Black get into the castle, he wants you dead too, he’s—he’s a werewolf!” Hermione wailed and the room went deathly quiet. Rose watched Lupin’s face drain of color but wasn’t feeling particularly empathetic at the moment.

“Not at all up to your usual standards, Hermione. Only one out of three; I haven’t been helping Sirius get into the castle, and I certainly don’t want Harry—or Rose—dead,” his eyes flickered between the pair of them as he said this. “But I won’t deny, I am a werewolf.”

The confession hung in the air heavily and seemed to make the room darker and fill with a strange ominous electricity.

“How long have you known?”

“Since Professor Snape’s essay.”

“He’ll be delighted. He was hoping someone would figure out what my symptoms meant. You really are the cleverest witch of your age I’ve ever met.”

“I’m not,” Hermione whispered. “If I’d been cleverer, I would have told someone.”

“But they already know. The staff do anyway… and Rose figured it out almost the same time you did,” Remus said. Rose felt all eye move to her for a moment and tried to keep her cheeks from reddening at the unexpected attention. “Dumbledore had to work very hard to convince some members of the staff that I was trustworthy—”

“And he was wrong! All this time you’ve been helping him!” It seemed that Harry’s long silence had only been an opportunity for him to gather all his energy for more shouting. Remus held up both hands in a gesture of peace and then tossed both Rose and Harry their wands back, sticking his own wand in his robe’s pocket. Rose caught hers deftly and took the time to scoop Ron and Hermione’s off the floor and toss them to their owners. Turning back, she aimed her wand carefully at Remus whose blue eyes locked with hers for a long moment before he looked back at Harry.

“You’re all armed, and we’re not. Now will you listen?”

“If you’re not helping him, how did you know where we were?” Harry asked immediately.

“The Marauder’s Map,” he said simply. “I thought the three of you would sneak out to see Hagrid tonight, so I was keeping an eye on it. Your presence, Rose, I must admit was a surprise.”

“You know how to work it?” Harry asked incredulously. It wasn’t hard for Rose to put together Harry’s familiarity with the map with the events back in February and realize that Lupin must have taken it from him on the day Snape had called him to his office.

“I helped write it, I’m Moony,” Remus said. Rose closed her eyes in irritation, as missing pieces began clicking together. She glanced at Black when she opened them again.

“And you would be Padfoot,” Rose said more than asked. Sirius looked at her quietly and nodded.

“You know about the map too?” Harry asked incredulously.

“Oh yes, _Moony_ here showed it to me weeks ago. Left out a few details though,” Rose answered dryly. Lupin winced at the accusation in her voice.

“Rose, I—”

“Don’t,” she cut him off, trying to keep her irritation in check. “You were telling us about how you knew we were here.”

Remus swallowed thickly and began to pace back and forth. “The point is that even though you had the invisibility cloak—”

“You know about the cloak?” Harry interjected again making Rose want to slap him.

“The number of times I saw James disappearing under it at school,” he said with a wave of his hand. “But even with the cloak you still show up on the map. I watched you cross the grounds and enter Hagrid’s hut, but when you left you were accompanied by someone I didn’t expect—I thought the map had to be malfunctioning, how could he be with you?”

“ _He_? Rose was the only one with us.”

“And then I saw Sirius run across the ground and drag two of you into the tunnel—”

“One of us,” Ron shouted from the bed.

“No, Ron, two of you,” Remus corrected gently. “Do you think I could have a look at your rat?”

“What’s Scabbers got to do with it?”

“Everything,” Remus replied. Rose, who had already been fooled by an animagus once this year immediately became suspicious. ‘ _Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs_ ,’ she thought.

“No…” she said disbelievingly. “It can’t be.”

“Oh yes, Rose,” Remus nodded at her approvingly. “Can I see him Ron?”

“What does my rat have to do with it,” Ron reiterated, lifting him up so that Remus could stare closely at him.

“That’s not a rat,” Black’s hoarse voice interjected coldly. “That’s a wizard. An animagus named Peter Pettigrew.”

“You’re both mental,” Ron gasped.

“Pettigrew’s dead, he killed him twelve years ago,” Harry said, sending an icy glare towards Sirius.

“I meant to, but little Peter got the best of me, not this time though,” Sirius lunged towards the rat with teeth barred—looking for all the world like a wild dog. Rose flicked her wand without thinking and Black bounced off the shield charm she’d cast. He looked at her in surprise, and she leveled her wand at his face.

“Back. Off.” Rose said sternly, and Sirius glared at her hostilely for the first time. She drew her lips back from her teeth in a snarl of her own, not backing down. He was not the one in control here, and he needed to remember that.

“Sirius, they’ve got a right to know everything. Ron’s kept him as a pet, there’s parts of it even I don’t understand, and Rose and Harry—you owe them the truth,” Remus said placatingly, stepping between Rose and Black. Rose did not lower her wand, trying to make it clear that until she knew more, she was very willing to hex Remus too.

“Alright Remus but hurry up. I want to commit the murder I was imprisoned for,” he said darkly.

“But Professor Lupin,” Hermione began timidly. “Scabbers can’t be Pettigrew. The Ministry keeps tabs on witches and wizards who are attempting to become animagi—there’s a register showing what animal they can become. I looked it up after Rose became an animagus, and there have only been eight animagi this century and Pettigrew wasn’t on the list.”

“You are an animagus?” Sirius said suddenly, surprising them all. Rose met his gray eyes curiously. He looked almost… proud?

“Yes.”

“What… what animal do you become?”

“A fox,” she answered simply and wasn’t sure if it was disappointment that flickered across his face or some other emotion. All of them glanced at the door when it creaked open on its own. Lupin moved to it quickly and looked out in the hallway, listening for a moment before closing the door.

“If you’re going to tell them the story, get a move on Remus,” Black said, retreating back into the corner of the room.

“Alright, but you’re going to have to help me, I only know how it began,” Lupin said and then looked at Hermione. “You are correct, of course, that the Ministry keeps a registry. But what the Ministry didn’t know was that there used to be three unregistered animagi running around the Hogwarts grounds.”

Remus launched into the story of how he was bitten, how Dumbledore had invited him to Hogwarts anyways, and how the Whomping Willow had been planted and the secret passage to the Shrieking Shack created for his transformations. The story was nearly identical to the one he’d told Rose back in November except that this time he didn’t leave out how James, Sirius, and Peter had become animagi. Didn’t exclude the stories of them running around Hogwarts and Hogsmeade during full moons. This time he told the entire truth. He explained what she’d already guessed about their nicknames and how they had created the map together.

“All this year I’ve been battling with myself about whether to tell Dumbledore that Sirius is an animagus, but I was too much of a coward,” Remus confessed.

‘ _This is it,_ ’ Rose thought. This was the secret he’d been keeping carefully guarded all year, even from her. And it hurt, but not as much as she thought it might. Rose understood the need for secrets after all. She’d just rarely been in the situation of having been the honest one.

“Telling him would have meant I’d betrayed Dumbledore’s trust in me as a boy. And Dumbledore’s trust has meant everything to me. And so I convinced myself that Sirius was using dark magic to get into the castle, that being an animagus had nothing to do with it… so in a way Snape has been right about me all year,” Remus continued.

“Snape? What’s Snape got to do with it?” Sirius interjected, and the tone of his voice was more disgusted than Rose had even heard Harry use to talk about Severus before.

“He’s here, Sirius, he’s teaching here as well,” Remus answered and then began to explain to the rest of them the dangerous prank Sirius had played on Snape when they were children and how James had saved Snape’s life. Rose felt sick to her stomach at this story, glancing at Black cautiously. She thought of Macnair’s axe and the type of men who ran the Committee for the Regulation and Control of Dangerous Creatures. Had Sirius known when he played his prank what the Ministry would do to a werewolf who killed another wizard?

“So that’s why Snape doesn’t like you,” Harry observed. “Because he thought you were in on the joke.”

“That’s right Potter.”

Rose felt the blood in her veins run cold at the sneering voice that came from just beside the door. Turning, she watched as Severus Snape pulled Harry’s invisibility cloak off of himself—a victorious sneer on his face. His wand was pointed directly at Remus’ heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buhbuhbuhbummm!


	44. Chapter 44

_"I hadn't told them about you,_   
_But they saw you bathing in my eyes._   
_I hadn't told them about you,_   
_But they saw you in my written words._   
_The perfume of love cannot be concealed."_

\- Nizar Qabbani

“I found this at the base of the Whomping Willow,” Snape said, amid the general reactions of alarm from the rest of the room’s occupants. He casually dropped the cloak to the ground. “Very useful Potter.”

With a malicious glint in his eyes he advanced on Lupin until his wand was almost touching the other man’s chest. Rose felt sheer terror at the deadly expression on Snape’s face while he looked at Remus.

“You forgot to take your potion tonight,” he said to Remus in a cold sneer. “Lucky for me, because when I brought you a goblet-full I found a certain map open on your desk—conveniently showing me you running up this passageway and out of sight.”

“Severus,” Remus tried to interject in a peaceable manner, but Snape dug his wand tip into Remus’ chest, burning a hole into the robes there. Rose stepped towards them in alarm, but Snape’s dark eyes froze her in her tracks.

“Stay where you are, Miss Malfoy,” he commanded, digging the wand—if possible—even harder into Lupin’s chest. Rose held up both hands in a gesture of peace.

“Malfoy?” Came the gruff voice of Sirius, and Snape’s eyes flickered to him.

“That’s right, Black. Did they not tell you? I thought the Slytherin badge on her robes might have given you some clue as to your goddaughter’s allegiance, but then, you always were a bit slow on the uptake,” he sneered at the fugitive. Rose felt her own cheeks reddening when Sirius turned his gaze upon her, but she didn’t look at him—she didn’t owe Sirius Black anything, and anyways, she was much more concerned about what Snape was going to do to Remus.

“Professor,” Rose tried to interject, terrified by the look of murderous intent on his face.

“Silence,” he hissed, and she bit her tongue. Turning back to Lupin he grinned manically. “Two more for Azkaban tonight. It will be interesting to see how Dumbledore takes this. He was quite convinced you were harmless… you know, Lupin, a tame werewolf.”

“You fool,” Lupin said, staring into his eyes in disgust. “Is a schoolboy grudge worth putting an innocent man back in Azkaban?”

There was a loud bang and flash of light and Rose screamed. Lupin was engulfed in a writhing coil of rope that shot out of Snape’s wand. He fell hard to the floor, and she rushed to catch his upper body to keep his head from slamming into the ground—not caring whether Snape hexed her or not. She needn’t have worried as Black, who had also rushed to his friend’s aid, was now the direct object of Snape’s wrath. Rose couldn’t hold Remus up with his dead weight leaning into her and instead sank to the floor, laying his head upon her lap. Their eyes locked, and even though rope was bound around his mouth like a gag, he gave her a comforting nod to show he was alright. With a trembling hand, she delicately swept his hair out of his eyes, trying to keep the tears from falling from her own; she had been so sure for a moment that Snape was going to kill him. She tugged at the ropes that were coiled around his throat, scared they would tighten too much and cut off his breathing.

“Get back, Miss Malfoy,” Snape commanded again, his wand pointed at Black. She looked up at him hatefully, her eyes narrowing in defiance. Hazel eyes locked with onyx ones and she sneered right back at him.

“Go to hell,” she told him. To her surprise, Sirius began to laugh as if her comment had been the most amusing joke in the world. The laughter died off when Snape pressed his wand to his throat.

“Give me a reason. Give me a reason, and I swear I’ll do it,” Snape threatened. “Vengeance is sweet, how I hoped I’d be the one to catch you.”

“The joke’s on you again Severus. As long as the boy brings his rat up to the castle, I’ll come quietly.”

“The castle? No, I don’t think we’ll need to go that far. All I have to do is call the dementors once we get out of the Willow. They’ve been longing to see you,” Snape jeered, and Sirius’ face went as pale as death. “A dementor’s kiss is said to be almost unbearable to watch, but I’ll do my best.”

“You—you’ve got to hear me out,” Black said pleadingly. “The rat, look at the rat.”

“Come on, all of you,” Snape said to the rest of them, tilting his head towards the door, blatantly ignoring Black. Coils of rope that were attached to Lupin flew into his hand. “I’ll drag the werewolf. Maybe the dementors will have a kiss for him as well.”

“No!” Rose shouted in shock at these words, and for a wild moment she thought her voice alone had been enough to throw Snape hard against the wall before realizing that all three of the Gryffindors had tried to disarm him at the same moment. She was breathing in shaky gasps as she quickly worked to free Lupin from the ropes and tried not to look at Snape who was crumpled in an unnatural position on the floor, blood leaking down his face. Sirius bent down and picked up Snape’s wand.

“We attacked a teacher,” Hermione whimpered.

As soon as Remus was free of the cords, he moved to Severus’ crumpled form and inspected him carefully. He gave a relieved sigh and stood up, running his hand through his hair.

“There’s nothing seriously wrong with him, you were just a bit overenthusiastic,” he told the three third-years. Rose buried her head in her hands, shaking in relief, trying to get control of herself. She felt Lupin’s arms wrap around her, and she clung to him tightly, burying her face in his chest. He rubbed her back soothingly while she listened to his steady heartbeat.

“Hush now, it’s alright. He’s not hurt,” Lupin told her. Rose pulled back and wiped her face on her sleeve, looking up at him with red eyes.

“I thought he was going to kill you! When he cast that spell, I thought you were going to—” her voice cut off in a half-suppressed sob. Remus looked at her with warm eyes, cupping her face and brushing her tears away with his thumbs.

“Rose, I’m alright,” he reassured her with the smile she so adored. She nodded a few times and tried to get control of her breathing. He helped her to her feet and led her to the bed, where she sat numbly. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Sirius and Hermione looking at them with similar expressions of suspicion but couldn’t bring herself to care. Crookshanks walked over and curled up on her lap, and Rose stroked his fur absently, his purring comforting her.

“Are you okay?” Rose looked up to see that Harry had come over as well and was now looking at her in concern. She tried to muster a clever quip or sarcastic response but was defeated by the sincerity in his emerald eyes.

“I’m fine,” she said with a small smile.

“Thank you, for what you did,” Lupin said, turning to the three Gryffindors.

“I’m still not saying I believe you,” Harry said obstinately, and Remus nodded.

“Then it’s time we offer you some proof. Ron, give me Scabbers.”

“Come off it,” Ron said. “Even if he was Scabbers, how would he know where Pettigrew was after spending twelve years in Azkaban?”

“You know, Sirius, that is a fair question, how did you know?” Lupin asked, and Sirius fished out a very crumpled page of the _Daily Prophet_ and showed it to them all. On the front cover was a picture of Ron and his family in Egypt with the rat perched on his shoulder.

“How did you get this?” Lupin asked incredulously.

“Fudge. He gave it to me on his last visit to Azkaban.”

“Merlin’s beard, his front paw,” Lupin breathed. “It has a toe missing.”

“So?” Ron asked defensively.

“Didn’t you ever hear? The biggest part they ever found of Pettigrew was a finger.”

“He cut it off himself, just after he shouted for the whole street to hear that I’d betrayed James and Lily. Then he blew up the street with the wand behind his back and sped off into the sewers as a rat. Faked his own death,” Sirius explained.

“And why did he fake his own death? Because he knew you were about to kill him just like you killed my parents,” Harry shouted, horrified he’d made the wrong choice in attacking Snape.

“I as good as killed them Harry. I persuaded James and Lily to use him as their secret-keeper at the last moment. I’m to blame… the night they died, I’d gone to check on Peter, but he wasn’t there and there were no signs of a struggle. I went to your parent’s as fast as I could, but it was too late. The house was destroyed, I saw their bodies, I couldn’t find Rosie anywhere, just you crying in your crib,” Sirius’ voice choked up while he spoke, and his eyes grew misty.

“There’s one certain way to prove what happened,” Lupin interjected. “Give me the rat.”

“Give it to him Ron,” Harry encouraged as Lupin reached for the rat.

“Scabbers! What are you going to do to him?”

“If he really is a rat, this won’t hurt him,” Lupin reassured the redhead, pulling Scabbers from his hands. Remus and Sirius pointed their wands at the rat and with a bright flash of light they all watched the rat transform back into a man. In an instant a balding rat-faced man crouched in the center of the room, looking around at them twitchily. Rose felt instantly repulsed by his grubby shrunken appearance.

“Well, hello Peter,” Remus said, flicking his hair out of his eyes in the casual confident way Rose found so attractive. “Long time, no see.”

“R—Remus, S—Sirius, my old friends.”

“We’ve been having an interesting conversation about the night Lily and James died. You may have missed the finer points while you were squeaking around down there—”

“You don’t believe him, do you? He tried to kill me, Remus! And now he’s come back to finish the job, you’ve got to help me!”

“Come now, Peter. No one’s going to try to kill you until we’ve sorted a few things out,” Lupin said. There was a deadly coldness in his eyes that Rose had never seen before. It was simultaneously sexy and unnerving.

“Sorted some things out?” Peter squeaked incredulously.

“Professor Lupin,” Hermione spoke up quietly. “If Scabbers—er, this man really was working for You-Know-Who all these years, why wouldn’t he have hurt Harry before now?”

“I’ll tell you why,” Sirius interjected. “Because Peter never did anything for anyone unless he could see what was in it for him. Commit murder right under Albus Dumbledore’s nose with Voldemort out there somewhere half dead? He’d wait to make sure Voldemort was the biggest bully on the block before he went back to him. But I knew he’d be perfectly positioned to act if the dark side began to gain strength again, and I was the only one who knew he was still alive. I had to do something.”

Sirius turned his eyes to Harry with a pleading look. “Believe me, Harry. Believe me, Rose. I never betrayed Lily and James. I would have died before I betrayed them. I loved them.”

Harry looked at Rose and an unspoken thought passed between them before the two turned back to Sirius and nodded. Peter shrieked in dismay and crumpled to his knees.

“Remus! You don’t believe this? Wouldn’t Sirius have told you if they changed the plan?”

“Not if he thought I was the spy,” Remus answered sadly. “I assume that’s why you didn’t tell me?”

“Forgive me, Remus.”

“Not at all, Padfoot, old friend. And will you in turn forgive me for believing you were the spy?”

“Of course. Shall we kill him together?”

“I think so.”

“No!” Peter shrieked and crawled over to first Ron and then Hermione, pleading with them both for his life. The two Gryffindors drew away from him in repulsion. Slowly he turned his ashen face to Rose who was seated on the bed and Harry who still stood next to her. Shuffling over to them on his knees, Pettigrew lifted up his hands at them imploringly.

“Harry, Rose, you look just like your parents, just like them—”

“How dare you speak to them!” Sirius roared in outrage. “How dare you talk about Lily and James in front of them!”

“Harry, James wouldn’t have wanted me killed, he would have shown me mercy! Rose, sweet Rosie, we used to play together when you were a child, don’t you remember? We were friends.” Peter continued to plead with them, grasping one of Rose’s hands with his own.

And very distantly, Rose thought she did remember. Thought she could recall the plump smiling face of a young man who picked her up and threw her into the air while she giggled. This was the man whose actions had caused the death of Lily and James—whose actions had resulted in Rose being sent to that orphanage. He was also the man whose actions had caused her to be raised by Lucius and Narcissa, two parents whom she deeply loved. But despite the conflict she felt around her biological and adopted parents, Rose also knew that this was the man who had stripped all of Remus’ closest friends from him in a single night and plunged him into over a decade of loneliness and despair. And for that she couldn’t forgive him.

Leaning forward, she squeezed his hands comfortingly, looked deep into his eyes, and whispered, “I think I’ll enjoy watching them kill you.”

She only had a moment to enjoy the horrified look on his face before Remus and Sirius grabbed him and dragged him back, throwing him back onto the floor. The pair leveled their wands at him threateningly.

“You sold Lily and James to Voldemort; do you deny it?” Black interrogated.

“What could I have done? I was scared, I didn’t mean to—”

“Liar! You’d been passing information to him for a year before they died. You were his spy!” Rose remembered vaguely that Remus had said Dumbledore had sent him to live among the werewolves for a year before their deaths. That must have been why Sirius had begun to suspect him.

“He was taking over everywhere,” Peter protested. “What was there to be gained by refusing him?”

“What was there to be gained by fighting the most evil wizard who has ever existed? Only innocent lives Peter!”

“You should have realized,” Lupin said in a measured voice. “That if Voldemort didn’t kill you, we would. Goodbye Peter.”

“No!” All eyes in the room turned to Harry who looked almost surprised to have spoken. “You can’t kill him.”

“Harry, this piece of vermin is why you have no parents,” Black said, his eyes never leaving Pettigrew.

“I know. We’ll take him to the castle and hand him over to the dementors. He can go to Azkaban, but don’t kill him.”

“Harry, thank you,” Peter sobbed.

“I’m not doing it for you. Rose was right earlier. They wouldn’t have wanted this. They wouldn’t have wanted any of us to become killers,” Harry said. Rose stared at him for a long moment, not sure whether now would be a good time to mention that she’d been talking out of her ass earlier to calm him down. She didn’t, however, think he was wrong about their wishes in this case. Seeing that Remus and Sirius were both looking at her now, she nodded in agreement.

“You two are the only ones who have the right to choose,” Sirius said hesitantly. “But think of what he did.”

“He can go to Azkaban. If anyone deserves that place, he does,” Harry repeated firmly. Lupin and Black glanced at each other and then slowly lowered their wands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to bigsmallelephant for the poem suggestion, I thought it was perfect for this chapter!  
> Also, I am so sorry that we are still in the Shrieking Shack after two very lengthy chapters. I've actually edited out so much of the book dialogue and supplemented some moments from the movies to make it shorter. I hate when OC's just steal dialogue from canon characters, but adding in Rose moments makes this long section of the book even longer. This is why I have an OC who typically stays out of the main plot, lol. I hope you are still enjoying! Also my husband just observed to me that my tPoA fanfic is now as long as the actual book so that's fun haha. This is the longest fanfic I have ever written and it's only Part 1!


	45. Chapter 45

_“Hope is the thing with feathers  
That perches in the soul  
And sings the tune without the words  
And never stops at all_

_And sweetest in the Gale is heard  
And sore must be the storm  
That could abash the little Bird  
That kept so many warm_

_I’ve heard it in the chillest land  
And on the strangest Sea  
Yet never in Extremity,  
It asked a crumb of me.”_

\- Emily Dickinson [Hope is the Thing With Feathers]

Rose watched Snape drift lazily down the secret passage, his head occasionally scraping against the low ceiling. Though she winced every time his face collided with a protruding stalactite, she kept her mouth shut and didn’t object to Black’s blatant disregard for what was happening. She was still quite angry at the man for how he’d acted earlier. Hadn’t he been the one telling her not to be ruled by emotions or to behave recklessly? The hypocrite. As Lupin and Ron had chained themselves to Peter and could barely fit through the passage all strung together, Rose found herself walking beside Hermione and just ahead of Harry and Sirius. She was close enough to easily overhear their conversation.

“You know what this means,” Sirius was saying to Harry. “Turning Pettigrew in?”

“You’re free.”

“Yes… well, I don’t know if anyone ever told you, but I’m your godfather.”

“Yeah, I knew that.”

“Well, your parents appointed me your guardian… if anything happened to them,” Sirius continued, sounding nervous. “I’ll understand of course if you want to stay with your aunt and uncle, but… think about it.”

“What? Live with you? Leave the Dursleys?” Harry asked incredulously.

“I thought you wouldn’t want to. I understand, I just thought—”

“Of course I want to leave the Dursleys! When can I move in?”

“You want to? You mean it?”

“Yeah, I mean it!”

The excitement in Harry’s voice came as a bit of a surprise to Rose. She’d always imagined Harry being dropped on the doorstep of loving relatives while she’d been sentenced to two years of neglect and abuse. Were her aunt and uncle really so terrible that Harry would want to leave them to live with a man he barely knew and had believed was trying to murder him until a mere hour ago? Perhaps their situations had not been as different as she’d assumed. Rose did not think this excused Dumbledore for sending her to that orphanage—if anything she thought it more condemning that he’d failed not one but both of the Potter children.

She glanced back and saw the two grinning at each other. The smile on Black’s face had completely transformed him from filthy half-starved madman into a semblance of the person she saw in her memories. Black saw her looking and grinned at her, and Rose felt dread as she anticipated his question.

“What about you, Rosie?” He asked, slinging an arm around Harry’s shoulder. “We can be a family—just like we were always supposed to be.”

“You can’t just—” Rose pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers. “I wasn’t dropped on the doorstep of some begrudging relatives. Lucius and Narcissa _adopted_ me. I’m legally their daughter—they’re my family.”

“If you’d known them during the war—if you’d seen the things they’re capable of… you wouldn’t be so quick to call them family,” Sirius told her with a dark look in his eyes. Rose felt anger bubbling up in her stomach at this statement and glared at him.

“Oh, so it’s fine if Harry wants to stay with his family but not if I want to stay with mine? You don’t get to tell me what I should and shouldn’t think about my own mother and father just because you knew me when I was a child—I am not a child anymore.” Rose told him heatedly, her Malfoy sneer fixed to her face. “You left me buried under a mountain of rubble while you went chasing after Pettigrew. Don’t act like you suddenly have some claim on my life after abandoning me for petty revenge.”

Sirius opened and closed his mouth. She saw a myriad of emotions cross his face, the most prominent of which were anger and shame.

“You’re right,” he said after a long moment.

“I’m… what?” She asked in surprise.

“I’m not going to tell you what to choose. Just know, you always have a home with me… with us,” he said, smiling at Harry who nodded back.

“…Thank you,” she said curtly, and turned back around. His response was wholly unexpected, and it left her feeling shaken.

She’d always been told what the right choice was and had always been expected to then choose it. She stared at Lupin’s back in the dimness of their wandlight. For a wild moment she imagined refusing to marry Stefan and, if Lucius and Narcissa disowned her for it, living with Sirius and Harry. She wouldn’t be alone or abandoned… she could pursue her relationship with Remus… but she’d lose three people who were closest to her heart: her mother, her father, and her brother. The three people who had loved her unceasingly for the past twelve years. Shaking her head, Rose reminded herself that it was likely Sirius Black would be just as opposed to her loving Remus Lupin as her parents would be—he was one of his oldest friends after all.

‘ _Don’t hope for things that won’t happen_ ,’ she cautioned her heart. But despite this thought, the hope remained. Remus glanced back at her and gave her a tired smile, and her heart sped up rapidly in her ribcage. She smiled back, feeling almost shy, and he turned back and continued up the tunnel passage. Rose felt eyes on her face, and she glanced to her left to see Hermione Granger staring at her with a curious expression.

“What?” Rose asked defensively, grateful that the cold light from the wands would help to hide the blush she felt rising to her cheeks.

“Nothing,” Hermione said quickly, and Rose didn’t believe her for a second.

As the odd procession clambered out of the passage beneath the frozen Whomping Willow, Rose couldn’t help staring at Lupin. Had there suddenly become a world in which a future for them was possible? Would he even want that if there was? He’d made it clear he had nothing more to offer her than what they had now—what even did they have now? Was mutual lust the only reason he’d acquiesced to her advances? But if that was true then why had he been so jealous over Stefan? Rose was so lost in thought that she didn’t notice the full moon creeping over the mountains until Remus froze and began to tremble. For a second, she didn’t understand what was wrong and then, as he hunched over and hair began sprouting from his skin, she realized what was happening with deadly clarity.

“He didn’t take his potion tonight! He’s not safe,” Hermione said with a gasp.

“Run! Run now!” Sirius shouted at them, shoving Harry back and running towards the transforming man who was still shackled to Ron. Rose grabbed the back of Harry’s robes and dragged him towards her, her other arm already held out protectively in front of Hermione.

“Ron—” Harry shouted in protest, but Rose did not release her grip on him.

“Trust Sirius,” she said, watching as the man transformed into the bear sized dog. He ran at the werewolf just as it broke free of the manacle and turned bloodthirsty eyes on Ron. Its eyes were nothing as she remembered from the fall. Though they were still blue with human sized pupils, there was no sign of intelligence or empathy in them—only rage and animalistic hatred at seeing the humans.

Sirius slammed into the werewolf, grabbing it by the neck with his jowls and dragged it away from them. Rose was distracted from the fight when she heard Harry shout “Expelliarmus!” and turned to see Lupin’s wand flying out of Pettigrew’s hand. She watched in horror as the man began to shrink down to the size of a rat.

“No you don’t,” she muttered, pointing her own wand at herself and transforming. It took a moment for her vulpine eyes to pick out the scurrying movement in the dark. She dashed after him, chasing the rat into the Forbidden Forest. Pettigrew had a good start on her and a great deal more experience in his Animagus form. Though she had mastered walking and could handle short sprints, she found herself misjudging distances and tripping over tree roots. For a while, even though he was out of sight, she was able to follow him by scent alone. She was slowly becoming better at using her body as she went and was sure she could catch back up.

She was completely confident about this until she crossed a small stream about half an hour into the chase. Rose stopped, sniffing the air, and looked wildly around the dark woods. She could no longer smell him and didn’t see signs that he had emerged on the other side of the stream. Had he been washed away? But the stream didn’t seem deep enough to do that. More likely he’d realized she’d lose the scent if he stayed in the water. So the question was: which direction had he gone? Rose wasn’t sure where this stream led to, but she guessed that it came down from the mountains and would empty into larger rivers or possibly even into the Black Lake. Though the stream wasn’t deep, she still thought it would be arduous for something as small as a rat to make its way upstream. Going with the current would be both easier and faster for him. Turning her nose downstream, Rose began to run.

Another quarter of an hour later, she began to suspect that she’d chosen the wrong direction. Hesitating for a moment she tried to decide whether or not to turn around. Would it even be worth going back the other direction? He’d have more than a half hour’s lead on her. A bright white flash lit up what she could see of the sky through the foliage, and she began to run again. What had that been? It took almost another twenty minutes for her to emerge from the trees to see that she’d come out at the far side of the Black Lake—the stream trickling into the dark water. Whatever had made the light was by now long gone, and Rose was left alone with no sign of Peter Pettigrew anywhere.

‘ _No, no, no,_ ’ she thought to herself angrily. She sniffed around the bank of the stream hoping against hope to pick up his scent once again, but it was useless. Rose knew that if she were human, angry tears would be falling from her eyes. Without Pettigrew, Sirius would not have his name cleared, and her dreams of having both a family and Remus were falling to ashes in her hands. She had told herself not to hope, and she’d been right—look what it had gotten her. Rose sat in the mud and stared out at the dark empty lake feeling completely alone. She was so focused on what was in front of her that she didn’t notice the dark silhouette of a large bird fly away from the castle and out of sight.

‘ _I should go back up to the castle_ ,’ she thought at last. ‘ _They must be worried about me._ ’

Slowly standing on four shaky legs, Rose began to walk back up the path, freezing when she heard the crack of a branch and saw movement a few meters ahead of her. Her heart sped up in fear as a familiar brown and gray wolf slunk out of the tree line and down to the lake and began lapping at the cold water. She began to slowly slink past it, but the werewolf must have caught her scent because it turned and growled at her. Rose froze once again, her body trembling as it approached. Her animagus form was not large enough that she could fight off the werewolf, nor did she think she was fast enough to outrun it. ‘ _Don’t wolves eat foxes?_ ’ she thought nauseously. Maybe she could climb a tree and get out of its reach, but she’d never tried to climb a tree as a fox before—what if she fell?

All of the swirling thoughts were deadened by shear terror when the werewolf bent its head to look at her. His dark cold nose sniffed at her face, and Rose could feel her ears lay flat back against her head and her tail tuck between her legs. He circled her, continuing to sniff at her body curiously. He nudged her belly with his nose, and Rose stumbled, nearly falling to the ground. She looked at the wolf in surprise—the action had seemed playful rather than hostile as if he were asking ‘ _what are you standing so still for?_ ’ She watched him sink to the ground, laying on his belly so he could stare at her from her own height, his head tilted curiously at her.

Rose glanced at the woods, thinking for a moment that now was her chance to escape up a tree, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Taking cautious steps towards the werewolf, Rose sniffed at his own snout just as he had done. She was surprised to find that the werewolf smelled like Remus—he had the same earthy scents of sandalwood and sawdust and her vulpine senses could also discern the sharper spicier tones of cracked pepper and ginger that her human nose had only ever hinted might be there. She could feel her whole body relax at the familiar scent.

‘ _This is Remus_ ,’ she reminded herself. ‘ _This is the man I love._ ’

Leaning forward, she cautiously nuzzled her snout against his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Emily Dickinson is one of my favorite poets, and I finally got to use my favorite poem by her!


	46. Chapter 46

**Chapter 46**

_"You're not even gone yet,  
and I've been missing you for a week already.  
Waiting is tedious round the clock work, constant tension.  
Yesterday night I thought that if I keep staring at you  
it will be enough for a long time and today  
I can't memorize the feeling of what it is like  
when you're here with me"_

\- Anna Ciarkowska

The pair awoke at moonset—the sky just beginning to gray with the promise of daylight. Rose jumped away from the wolf she’d been curled up against for the past several hours in a fitful and unsatisfying sleep. She’d awoken every half hour or so with unnamable terror and panic coursing through her breast—so afraid for what the new day would bring. Rose watched Remus transform back into the form of a man and was startled to see the dark bruises, scratches, and bites that littered his body. She’d been able to tell last night that he’d been hurt, but his fur had disguised the true extent of his injuries.

“Remus,” she said in concern, transforming back and kneeling at his side. She pulled her robe off and threw it around his shivering body, helping him sit up.

“Rose,” he said in a whisper, touching her face with his fingers as if she might break or vanish. There were tears in his eyes as he processed the memories of the previous night, and she saw the deep shame in them. She wrapped her arms tight around him, and he laid his head in the crook of her neck, his shoulders shaking.

“It’s alright Remus,” she said, rubbing his back in soothing circles.

“I could have killed you; I could have killed all of you,” he said in a hollow voice.

“I’m okay, we’re all okay, once we get back up to the castle, you’ll see.”

“The castle,” he said with a shiver. “Can you imagine what would have happened if we’d gotten that far before moonrise? I would have…” Remus trailed away in abject horror at the idea of transforming into a werewolf in the midst of so many students.

“It’s not your fault, you forgot. We all forgot.”

“I can’t just forget, Rose,” he snapped, his fingers digging into her blouse. “It’s not something a werewolf can ever afford to do.”

“You were trying to help your friend—”

“And I made everything worse,” he said dejectedly. Rose drew away from him and cupped his face in her hands as he had done to her so many times.

“No. Without you, we would have never believed Sirius was innocent,” she said firmly, and she kissed him. She could feel the hesitation in his lips, and the kiss felt short and uncomfortable.

“Remus?” she questioned tentatively when they broke apart.

“I’ll be alright, pet,” he reassured her with a tired smile, squeezing her hand.

“We should get back up to the castle,” she said, trying to settle the squirming sensation in her stomach. He nodded in mute agreement. Rose had to use most of her strength to help him stand, wincing at the mud caked onto his angry red wounds. He leaned on her heavily while they walked and their progress was slow. Rose hadn't realized how sore her own body was until now. Though she had no injuries, she had run several miles as a fox and had slept on the cold muddy ground.

“We should stop at the Willow first,” Remus said when they got close. “Hopefully our wands will be there.”

They were. Along with Harry’s dropped invisibility cloak. Rose used her wand to clean them both of the mud they were covered in, and Remus bandaged his own injuries with a spell she’d never learned. She transfigured the scraps of clothes that had been torn to shreds during his transformation back into their proper appearance and gave him some privacy while he changed. When she turned around again, he looked much less like a wild man who might expire at any moment and more like the familiar exhausted Professor she’d come to know. He stuffed Harry’s cloak into a robe pocket and, pointing his wand at the long stick they’d used to prod the Whomping Willow into freezing up again, he transfigured it into a cane he could lean on.

As the pair made their way up to the castle entrance, Rose missed the warmth of his body pressed against hers and the comfort of his presence. Now that they walked a few feet apart, she felt unsure and almost afraid at his silence and the dark mood that hung over him. She had no idea what to say or do to make him smile—and that was a skill she’d always prided herself on in the past. She wanted to make him see that this wasn’t his fault; that he wasn’t to blame.

“Thank heavens!” The relieved voice of McGonagall preceded the tight embrace she gave Rose by mere moments when they walked through the entrance. To her own surprise, Rose found herself wrapping her arms around the woman and burying her head in her shoulder, letting the tears she’d been holding in all night begin to fall.

“There, there,” Minerva said, patting her back awkwardly. Rose took deep shaky breaths and got her breathing and emotions back under control, pulling away from the woman and wiping the tears from her face with the sleeves of her robe. McGonagall turned to Lupin and winced at the scratches and bruises that littered his face.

“Oh, Remus,” she said, reaching out to him, but he held up a hand to stop her, giving the woman a tired smile.

“Please, Minerva, do you know where Professor Dumbledore is? I need to speak with him,” he said measuredly, and Rose looked at him with concern.

“You need to go to the hospital wing, Remus,” McGonagall said sternly.

“That can wait. Do you think he’ll still be awake if I go to his office?”

“As if any of us could sleep after the night we just had,” Minerva huffed. “Sirius Black attacking students only to escape once again.”

“He escaped?” Rose gasped.

“It pains me to say it, but yes. We’ve no idea how,” she answered, misinterpreting Rose’s surprise. “And Miss Malfoy, you gave us quite a fright… we were beginning to fear the worst.”

“I—I’m sorry Professor,” Rose answered quickly, not daring to look at Lupin.

“Be that as it may, you look exhausted, are you injured?”

“No, no I’m fine. Not even a scratch,” Rose assured the witch.

“Well, then you best be off to your dormitory and get some sleep.”

“But I—I thought I ought to go with Professor Lupin to see the Headmaster,” Rose said edgily, side-stepping closer to the man.

“Minerva’s right Rose,” Remus interjected, looking at her with kind eyes. “I’m sure Professor Dumbledore will want to see you too, but that can wait until you’ve rested.”

“But—” she protested.

“Besides, I need to speak with him alone,” he said firmly. Rose felt panic welling up in her stomach at this. What could he possibly need to say to Dumbledore that she couldn’t be there for? Seeming to read this fear in her eyes, he gave her a comforting smile that made him look a bit more like the Remus Lupin she knew and less like a walking husk of a man. “It’s alright Rose, I will see you when you wake up.”

“Promise?” She asked, staring into his blue eyes searchingly. He gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze and nodded.

“I promise.”

His hand slipped from her shoulder, and he limped forward down the corridor. Rose felt her heart aching in her breast as she watched him go. Minerva watched their interaction with a guarded expression but, thankfully, didn’t comment. Instead, after looking Rose over to make sure she really wasn’t hurt, she sent Rose off to her common room. Walking along the corridor to the dungeon, she heard the sound of familiar footsteps hurrying towards her. Rose sped up, hoping to avoid the confrontation—she was too tired for this.

“Roselin!” She froze at the sound of her name, clenching and unclenching her fists as he came to stand beside her. Looking up into his black eyes, she wished she could hit him like she’d hit Flint.

“Professor,” she drawled.

“Minerva told me you weren’t hurt,” he said.

“I’m not,” she agreed coldly.

The pair stood in the hallway in awkward silence before Rose could no longer hold back the question that had been pressing at her mind all night.

“Did you know?”

“What—”

“Did you know Pettigrew was the spy? That Sirius was innocent?” She knew that her father hadn’t, but how deep had Severus been in the Dark Lord’s confidence? She saw his eyes darken in anger but crossed her arms refusing to be intimidated.

“Peter Pettigrew is a figment of Black’s deranged imagination—”

“He is not!” She shouted at him, her temper breaking. They locked eyes and she practically shoved the memory of Pettigrew’s transformation into a rat and their chase through the forest at him. She could feel Snape watching the memory, grasping hold of it so that she no longer had any control over what was happening. Realizing with panic that she’d laid bare her mind to the last person she wanted poking around in there, she struggled to reinstate her defenses. Rose did manage to block him out, but not before he’d seen her approaching the werewolf and thinking ‘ _This is Remus, this is the man I love._ ’

“How touching,” Snape sneered at her—his own temper palpable. Rose tried to keep her emotions in check, she didn’t need him trying to dive back into her mind. He’d seen nothing incriminating—only a schoolgirl crush—one she knew he’d already suspected.

“Did you know,” she demanded again, trying to regain control of the conversation.

“…No,” he said at last, his face still twisted in a cruel snarl.

“But you suspected it wasn’t Sirius,” she pressed.

“Suspicion is not proof.”

“You coward,” she said quietly, and something in Severus Snape seemed to snap at this. He grabbed her by the front of her robes and dragged her towards him, looking into her eyes with burning anger.

“ _Do. Not. Call me a coward_ ,” he snarled.

“L—let go of me,” she stammered, trying to keep the tremble out of her voice, the pressure of the robes around her neck making it hard to breathe. She had never felt afraid of Severus until that moment. He must have seen the fear in her eyes because suddenly she could breathe again, and he was striding away from her—his long dark cloak billowing behind him.

Rose felt tears again and brushed them angrily out of her eyes. She didn’t want to cry any more for Severus Snape, she had done too much of that already. Instead, she crept quietly through the entrance to the common room and up the stairs to her dormitory. She managed to change into her pajamas and her stolen shirt and climb halfway under the covers before Mari’s voice whispered to her from the next bed over.

“Where have you been?” The darkhaired girl asked, keen eyes peering out at Rose through the emerald curtains.

“Doing rounds—"

“ _All_ night?”

“You’ll hear about it later, a lot of crazy things happened last night.”

“What things?”

“Mari, I’m really really tired. I’m sorry, I’ll talk to you when I wake up.”

Despite all of the swirling thoughts in her mind, Rose dropped off to sleep almost immediately. In her dreams she was still chasing Pettigrew through the forest. This time, when she caught him, her dreams changed to the sight of Remus’ clear blue eyes, the taste of his chocolate and cigarette mouth, and the feel of his body pressed against her own.

“Did you know?!”

Rose blinked when Mariko shook her awake hours later.

“Mariko, I said I’d talk to you when I wake up,” she groaned, rolling over and pulling her duvet up over her head. Mari immediately yanked it down again.

“Roselin Euphemia Malfoy, you wake up right now and tell me if you knew Lupin is a werewolf!” Rose sat up so fast, her forehead slammed into Mari’s who was bent over her. She fell back onto her pillow clutching her head while Mariko groaned in shared pain.

“W—what did you say?” Rose asked after a moment of rubbing her forehead.

“Did you know, Professor Lupin is a werewolf?” Mariko said slowly, enunciating every word.

“How—”

“You did know?!”

“I—well, I—”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me! Merlin, we had classes with him; _you_ had us study around him. what if he’d attacked us?”

“He wouldn’t have attacked us,” Rose said defensively, anger bubbling in her stomach.

“How could you stand to be in the same room with him for so long, knowing he’s a monster?” Mariko hissed, and Rose glared at her.

“He is _not_ a monster. Remus Lupin is intelligent and kind and capable.”

“Well he was loose on the grounds last night; he could have attacked any of us.”

“No, he couldn’t have.”

“Why are you defending him?”

“Why are you attacking him? You’ve had classes with him all year. You said he was the best Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor we’ve had in years—” Rose shouted.

“When I said those things, I didn’t know what he was,” Mariko huffed. Rose wanted to slap her but remembered the question she needed to know the answer to.

“How did you find out?” She asked sternly, and Mariko glared at her, tossing a sheet of black hair over her shoulder moodily.

“Professor Snape told us at breakfast.”

“He told you and Parker?”

“No, all the Slytherins heard how Lupin was running amok last night. It’s all over the castle,” she informed. Rose’s face drained of color and she jumped out of bed, pulling her robe on over her pajamas and hopping around trying to yank on her shoes and socks.

“Where are you going?”

“I have to see him,” she said fearfully, making for the door.

“Rose, you can’t,” Mariko shouted, grabbing the sleeve of her robe.

“Why not,” Rose snarled into Mariko’s face, and the girl took a hasty step back, looking at her like she’d never truly seen her friend before.

“B—Because,” she huffed. “He’s gone.”

“Gone? Gone where?”

“He left. Probably got sacked once Dumbledore found out what he was,” Mariko said haughtily. The gears in Rose’s head were whirling at this information.

“When did he leave?”

“He walked out the door not five minutes ago—Rose, Rose wait!”

But Rose wasn’t listening—she was running. Five minutes. Surely she could catch up to him if it had only been five minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Megs for the poem suggestion and translation from Polish!


	47. Chapter 47

_“Before you came things were just what they were:  
the road precisely a road, the horizon fixed,  
the limit of what could be seen,  
a glass of wine was no more than a glass of wine._

_With you the world took on the spectrum  
radiating from my heart: your eyes gold  
as they open to me, slate the color  
that falls each time I lost all hope…_

_As for the sky, the road, the cup of wine:  
one was my tear-drenched shirt,  
the other an aching nerve,  
the third a mirror that never reflected the same thing…”_

\- Faiz Ahmed Faiz [Before You Came]

The world was a blur as Rose ran up from the dungeons and down the corridor to the entrance hall. Someone called her name, but she didn’t stop to see who. Shoving open the doors, she sprinted out across the courtyard towards the grounds, her hair whipping into wild tangles behind her. She paused at the top of the hill, trying to decide which way he would have gone to disapparate; towards Hogsmeade or towards the train station? Remembering his nostalgia for the Hogwart’s Express she took off down the hill in that direction, praying she hadn’t made the wrong choice once again. As she ran down the path towards the station, she slipped on the loose gravel, but managed to catch herself with her hands, scraping only her palms and her knees. Rose didn’t notice the pain, she only had room in her mind at the moment for one objective—she had to make it in time. Cresting one of the smaller hills, she caught sight of the gate and the train tracks and a tall man stepping out of one of the black thestral-drawn carriages.

“Remus!” She shouted, trying to make herself heard across the distance even though she was panting and breathless. “Remus, wait!”

She saw him pause and turn—he had seen her. Rose felt herself smile and begin to cry at the same time. She’d made it. She felt tears streaming down her cheeks as she ran, saw him set his trunk down and open his arms to her. And suddenly she was in them, nearly knocking him over in her exuberance, her arms closing around his waist while his went around her shoulders. She was crying into his chest—long hard sobs that shook her whole body. This was not how she’d wanted him to see her. She’d wanted to arrive calm and collected looking beautiful and desirable and worth staying for. Instead she was a mess, her face was blotchy, and her nose ran, and her hair was in tangles, and she could hardly breathe from the run, but it didn’t matter. She’d made it, and she was there in his arms.

“Rose,” Remus said softly into her ear, stroking her hair soothingly. “Hush now.”

“Y—you can’t l—leave,” she stammered out. “Th—they c—can’t sack you.”

“Breathe, pet, try to calm down,” he said, pushing her away far enough that he could look into her eyes. When he did this, he noticed her bleeding knees and palms and his gaze became one of concern. “You’re hurt.”

“I f—fell,” she managed to get out, gesturing back up at the gravel road. Taking her hands gently in his own, he guided her to sit on his trunk and pulled out his wand. As he knelt and busied himself with cleaning and bandaging her scrapes, Rose tried to memorize each hair on his head—which were brown and which were gray. She reached out and touched his cheek, trying her best to avoid his fresh scars.

“Do they hurt?”

“Not too much,” he said, giving her a small smile, but his eyes were sad.

“Remus, you have to stay, I’ll talk to Dumbledore. I’ll tell him what really happened—”

“He knows,” Remus said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“How could he sack you knowing what—”

“He didn’t sack me Rose,” Lupin said, looking at her seriously, and she furrowed her brow in confusion. “I resigned this morning.”

“You… why?” She asked, and he laughed bitterly.

“After last night, how could I not? I could have turned one of you into a werewolf; I could have killed you.”

“No, I—I understand that. I think you’re wrong, but I understand,” she corrected, taking one of his hands in her own and looking straight into his eyes. “But why were you going to leave without saying goodbye?”

Remus looked at the ground and stood, brushing the dirt off his knees. Rose hurriedly stood as well, looking up at him expectantly.

“You promised I’d see you when I woke up,” she pressed.

“I thought it would be… easier,” he said still not meeting her gaze.

“Why would you think that?” Rose asked, tears pricking at the corner of her eyes once again.

“I was afraid if I saw you, I wouldn’t have the strength to leave,” he said, meeting her eyes at last.

“Then stay,” she whispered pleadingly.

“Rose, I can’t.”

“Then let me come with you,” she said immediately, stepping closer to him and grasping both his hands in her own.

“Rose,” he said with a sigh. “You have to stay.”

“I don’t have to do anything,” she protested. “I want to come with you, I want to be with you. I—Remus, I love you.”

She’d said it. The three words she’d been keeping to herself for weeks and the feelings she’d been denying for months were at last in the open. She looked down at the ground nervously, afraid of how he’d react. She tensed up when he freed one of his hands from her grip, but he only put his fingers beneath her chin and tilted her face up to look at him. His eyes were warm, and a smile tugged at his lips. He ran his thumb across her chin, leaned in, and kissed her hard on the mouth. He pulled her tightly against him, and she buried her hands in his hair. His own hands were gripping her hips so tightly she was sure she’d have bruises, but she didn’t care. For a wonderful moment she thought she had convinced him—only later did she realize it was a kiss goodbye.

They broke apart panting, and she leaned back in for another kiss. Remus gripped her upper arms and gently pushed her away. She huffed at this, grinning up at him cheekily. The grin faded when she saw the forlorn look in his eyes.

“Remus,” she begged. “Please….”

“Rose, if I let you give up everything to come with me, it won’t be long before that love turns to resentment,” he said softly, and Rose shook her head in denial. “It won’t be long before my identity as a werewolf becomes a public scandal. I won’t be able to find a job, anyone close to me will be publicly shunned, you’ll be an outcast—hated by your family, by strangers, by everyone. I can’t bear that.”

“I don’t care,” she protested, tears starting to fall again. He smiled at her sadly and brushed the tears from her face.

“You will, Rose. Before long, you will,” he assured her. He cupped her face in his hands while silent tears slid down her cheeks, giving her the beautiful boyish smile she so adored. “You have your whole future ahead of you. Don’t give all that up for one tired old werewolf.”

“But… I love you,” she said in a choked voice.

“You’re the one who told me this was enough,” he reminded gently, and Rose closed her eyes tight against the tears. At the time she’d said those words, she’d truly believed them.

“I lied,” she whispered.

She felt his lips on hers once more. And the kiss was sadder and gentler this time, his fingers cool on her hot cheeks. She kept her eyes closed when he drew back, and his fingers slid from her face. She didn’t dare to open them as he picked up his trunk and stepped past her. Only when she heard the soft pop of him disapparating did she allow her eyes to flicker open to see that she stood there quite alone. Rose sank to her knees beside the gate, shoulders shaking in silent heartbroken sobs.

Rose wasn’t sure how long she knelt there crying, but eventually her eyes were so dry that no more tears would come. Instead of sadness, she just felt numb; she knew the sorrow would return but for now it was kept in check by a wall of apathy. Wrapping her arms around herself, she began making her way slowly back up to the castle, stumbling occasionally on loose gravel. The whispers started as soon as she walked back through the entrance, and Rose self-consciously ran her hands through her very tangled hair and drew her robe closed over her pajamas. All she wanted was to crawl back into bed and block out the world.

“Miss Malfoy.”

“What!” Rose snapped, turning with a glare and barred teeth on whomever dared speak to her. A blush immediately colored her cheeks, and she coughed awkwardly. “I’m so sorry, Headmaster.”

“Not at all, my dear,” he said with a twinkle in his blue eyes. “Forgive me for keeping you from much needed sleep, but I believe it’s time we spoke.”

“Of course, sir,” Rose said immediately, following him down the corridor, past the gargoyle, and up the spiral staircase to his office. She really didn’t want to do this right now but couldn’t see a way out of it. Shortly after, she was sitting down across from his desk, and he was offering her a cup of tea. She accepted the drink just to have something to do and was surprised to find her hand trembling as she lifted the cup to her lips. Taking a sip, she hastily set the shaking cup back on its saucer with a loud clink. Dumbledore was observing her over steepled fingers.

“I understand you had a long night. Professor Lupin, Mr. Potter, and Miss Granger were kind enough to fill me in on the details. Harry said you were very brave chasing Peter into the forest the way you did.”

“You know about Peter Pettigrew?” She asked in surprise.

“Oh yes, I was able to speak with Sirius last night before his rescue.”

“Rescue?”

“I think I will leave it to Mr. Potter and his friends to give you all the riveting details. But suffice it to say that both Sirius and Buckbeak have escaped to safety.”

“Buckbeak…” Rose mumbled in numb amazement.

“You helped save many lives last night.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Rose said, staring at the desk. “I let Pettigrew escape. If it weren’t for me, Sirius would be free.”

“The ability to blame yourself for something out of your control is a trait both you and your brother share. I am not saying it isn’t an understandable feeling—simply an unhelpful one.”

Rose took another sip of tea, unsure how to feel about his words. It wasn’t as if she could stop feeling like a failure just because he said the feeling was pointless.

“I will not, however, pretend that Pettigrew’s escape is not cause for serious concern,” he continued, and Rose glanced up at him curiously. “I have reason to believe that he will return to Lord Voldemort, and the help of even one servant may be enough to drastically change his circumstances.”

“I… why are you telling me this?”

“To put you on guard,” he said seriously. “Contrary to what I might have wished, you have grown up in a family with deep ties to Voldemort and are now to marry into another family with just as dark a history. Should he begin to regain power, it is impossible that you will go unnoticed by him.”

Rose felt a shiver run down her spine at this pronouncement.

“My parents love me—” she began in weak protest.

“Much to my surprise—and, I believe, theirs as well—I do believe in the sincerity of the deep feelings both Lucius and Narcissa have come to feel for you over the years. You seem to have the unique talent for making others love you—do not misunderstand me,” he corrected at the look of anger that came over her face at this comment. “I do not suggest you do this purposefully, only that you are a very likeable young woman. But you will not be able to rely on these charms in the face of a wizard who does not know what it means to love.”

“I… understand,” she said after a long moment. “You think it likely that he will come back?”

“I think it to be only a question of when and how,” Dumbledore told her seriously. “And I must ask that you at least consider informing either myself or Professor Snape should anything of his return come to your attention.”

“You’re asking me to become a spy? Against my own family?”

“No my dear, I am simply asking that you continue to exercise the wonderful conscience you have begun to develop this year and judge best what should be done if such circumstances arise,” he said genially. Rose narrowed her eyes at him, quite sure that he’d both insulted her and muddled a very simple request. She had to give him credit though, using her conscience sounded much more palatable than spying on the Dark Lord’s actions.

“I will… keep that in mind,” she said noncommittally.

“To that end, I would suggest that you ask Professor Snape to continue studying occlumency under his tutelage—I understand he is a close friend of your family and don’t think your continued interactions would raise suspicion.”

“But Professor!” she protested, her cheeks flaring red with anger. “After what he did to Sirius and Remus—”

“I must insist,” Dumbledore told her firmly. “Even if we never speak again, I must impress upon you how much you will regret it if you do not prepare yourself further.”

Rose could only nod silently, her insides still burning with rage over the idea of speaking to Severus Snape, let alone asking him for any help.

“Is there anything else, sir,” she asked tensely, and Professor Dumbledore sat back in his chair, unsteepled his fingers, and looked at her sadly.

“There is one last thing about which I believe I must, in my official role as Headmaster, express my sternest disapproval—the romantic relationship that developed between yourself and Professor Lupin this year.” Had Rose been drinking tea she would have spat it all over the desk. Instead, her face drained of every drop of color.

“He—he told you—”

“This morning upon giving his resignation,” Dumbledore informed her, and Rose was embarrassed to find that her eyes had gone misty again. “I must tell you how inappropriate this kind of behavior was for any teacher and student whether the student was of age or not.”

“I understand, sir,” she said in a whisper.

“Though I noticed your own attraction—quite obvious, I must say—I was surprised to find that they had become reciprocated. But, as I said before, you are a very likeable young woman, and Remus Lupin has, most unfairly, been isolated from all hope of love for a very long time.”

“It was my fault, sir, I didn’t listen when he tried to say it was inappropriate—”

“Miss Malfoy, I think you’ll find that where two consenting adults are involved there are usually two to share the blame, however I am not interested in assigning blame or punishment, merely to make my sentiments known.”

“Yes, Headmaster. I’m… I’m sorry,” she said defeatedly, looking down at her lap.

“And now that I have done my duty as Headmaster, I must tell you—unofficially of course—that it has been a great many years since I have seen Remus Lupin as happy as he has been this year and that the changes your love for him his wrought in you were beyond my wildest hopes. I mean to say that though we cannot choose who to fall in love with, that the love you two shared brought out the very best in you both,” he said kindly, and Rose felt tears on her cheeks again and buried her face in her hands to hide them while she cried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, it had to be this poem again, it's really the inspiration for and heartbeat of Rose and Remus' relationship. You could say that the full poem (which you can read back in chapter 5) is an ending they'll have to grow into. I am promising a happy ending for them eventually, I love Remus, and he deserves that. For me, at this point in their relationship and with him leaving Hogwarts, I just couldn't envision him acting in any other way that would allow him to stay faithful to his personality. I love you all, please don't hate me.  
> One chapter left to wrap Part 1 up! I can't believe we've come so far so fast. I can't believe I wrote a book length fanfic in just over a month, and I already have so many ideas for Part 2 and beyond!


	48. Chapter 48

_“…It is my love that keeps mine eye awake,  
Mine own true love that doth my rest defeat,  
To play the watchman ever for thy sake.  
For thee watch I whilst thou dost wake elsewhére,  
From me far off, with others all too near.”_

\- William Shakespeare [Sonnet 61]

Rose dragged her trunk down the hallway of the Hogwarts Express, trying to wait patiently for students in front of her to find their seats. The last week of term had been a blur—most of it involving a lot of crying and feeling sorry for herself. Additionally, the knowledge that Professor Lupin was a werewolf, and that Rose knew about it and had continued to work closely with him anyways, had thrown her into disrepute with many of the students—not all of whom were Slytherins. Mari had sworn she hadn’t told anyone, and Rose supposed it wouldn’t have been that hard for others to guess based on how she’d been acting at his departure.

She’d received a strongly worded letter from her parents giving their opinion on her not informing them about Lupin’s secret immediately but had only skimmed it before throwing it in the common room fire; Rose would deal with one damn crisis at a time. She was thankful that her romantic relationship with Lupin remained a secret to all but Dumbledore—and, she suspected, Hermione—as she wasn’t sure she could have handled the ire that would bring down on her especially without him there to support her through it.

She had mostly spent her last days at Hogwarts walking around the lake or sitting between a sympathetic Ava and Sam. Ava had the good grace not to say anything even remotely along the lines of _‘I told you so’_ and Sam’s normal exuberance had been tempered by her friend’s pain. Rose didn’t know what she was going to do without the two over the next few weeks. Mariko, though distant, had gone out of her way to be kind to Rose when they spoke and had even brought her breakfast from the Great Hall on days where all she wanted to do was lay in bed. Rose wasn’t quite sure yet whether she was ready to forgive her oldest friend or not. Part of her knew that Mari had reacted in exactly the same way she herself had upon discovering Lupin’s secret, but the other part of her was bitter and hurting and didn’t give a fuck.

“I’ll catch up with you in a bit,” Rose told Sam and Ava, spotting a certain trio of Gryffindors in the compartment she was passing. The pair nodded their understanding, and she pushed open the door.

“Hey there, lion cubs,” she said, stepping inside and swinging her trunk up onto the overhead rack, and falling heavily into a seat beside Hermione. She hadn’t had a chance to be alone with the three of them since the night of the Shrieking Shack.

“Make yourself at home,” Harry said with a bit of sarcasm in his voice. Old habits died hard it seemed.

“Don’t mind if I do,” she said, flicking her wand at the curtains to draw them shut over the window—the last thing she needed was Draco or one of his friends seeing her sitting with them. “Now, why don’t the three of you fill me in on what happened.”

And they did, making sure not to skimp on any of the details. Rose listened attentively while Harry and Hermione took turns telling her of their exploits with the time turner and rescuing Buckbeak as well as Harry fighting off the dementors and Sirius’ flight to freedom. She realized the flash of white light she’d followed that night must have been from Harry’s patronus.

“What form does your patronus take,” Rose asked while she digested the story. She’d asked out of polite curiosity but received an uncomfortable jolt at his answer.

“A stag.”

“A stag?”

“Yeah, I think it was dad’s animagus form… Prongs, you know,” he said, looking down at his feet. Rose nodded quickly at this. She’d been so distracted after Wormtail’s appearance that she hadn’t put much thought into what animal James Potter might have become.

“Mine is a doe,” she said very quietly. The two stared at each other for a long moment before Harry said one word.

“…Mom…?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Rose answered quietly, staring out of the window at the mountains racing by. She remembered her conversation with Snape that seemed to have occurred in almost in another lifetime. The bastard must have known Lily’s patronus was a doe and hadn’t told her.

His voice seemed to echo out of the depths of her memories: ‘ _There are other theories that tell us that a person’s patronus—because it is a guardian creature—is tied to feelings or memories of protection and safety._ ’ Was Lily Potter still here, still protecting her after all of this time? Maybe because her emotions had been so close to the surface lately because of what had happened with Remus, Rose began to tear up at the thought. For years it had been so much easier to think of Lily as someone who had abandoned her—to hate the woman whose blood status and relationship to Rose had only ever been a hinderance in her life as a Malfoy. But it seemed Lily’s love had withstood even that.

“I—I have to go,” Rose said quickly, grabbing her trunk and running hastily from the compartment. She’d barely made it out into the hallway before a soft voice called after her.

“Rose?” She turned and looked down at the bushy head of Hermione Granger who was carefully sliding the door shut, leaving them alone in the deserted hallway together.

“What is it?” She tried not to snap at the young girl but also just wanted to escape.

“I’m… I’m sorry about Professor Lupin,” she said, her brown eyes looking up at Rose with a sad sincerity. Rose felt a lump in her throat at these words and nodded her thanks.

Turning, she fled down the corridor to a compartment where she found Sam, Ava, and, to her surprise, Mariko. Mari hastily moved over so that Rose could sit down by the window. She took the seat and turned her face to look out, resting her head against the cool glass and trying very hard not to remember how it had felt to sit on the train with Remus’ head in her lap and hand on her thigh. She felt one of Mariko’s hands wrap tentatively around her own, and Rose gripped it tightly, taking deep calming breaths. She was incredibly grateful that the three continued whatever conversation they’d been having before she’d arrived rather than try to pry.

Sitting there holding Mari’s hand, Rose watched the mountains recede into rolling hills and the sun creep across the sky. She thought about the fury she’d felt when Severus had called her Lily at the end of last year. She thought of Remus and his mischievous smile and bright eyes and the way she felt in his arms. She thought about the book of poetry—now buried somewhere in her trunk—and the taste of his lips when he’d left her. She thought about Sirius and his offer of family and freedom and Dumbledore’s warning that Voldemort might soon return. She thought of dress shopping with her mother, and the warmth of her father’s embrace, and how Draco was growing up so fast. She remembered the uncertain look in Harry’s green eyes two years ago when they had stood in front of the Mirror of Erised and he’d asked, ‘ _are you my sister?_ ’ She thought of her doe patronus and her fox animagus. And most especially she thought about the way her name had shown up on the Marauder’s Map as ‘Rose Potter Malfoy’ and wondered if there would ever be a world where that reality was possible. One where she didn’t have to pick between being a Potter or being a Malfoy but just live life as a little bit of both. And in that world, was there room for the love between that naïve, young woman and a handsome, jaded werewolf?

**Epilogue**

Remus Lupin sat alone in his home in Yorkshire, sipping at a glass of brandy—he’d decided something stronger than wine was needed and the expensive bottle had been sitting around in his house waiting for a special occasion. He wasn’t sure this situation qualified as a special occasion, but it was certainly a momentous one. He now doubted he’d have much to celebrate in the future anyways, so he might as well drink it now. He’d had one too many glasses already and knew intellectually that drinking was not going to help with the ache in his chest, but every time he took a sip and the liquor burned its way pleasantly down his esophagus to his stomach it disguised the heartbreak as just a symptom of the alcohol.

He’d been trying to read some of _The Faerie Queen_ , an old epic which had always done much to engage his mind in the past, but his brain was hardly focusing lately. On the rare instances in which he managed to digest a few lines they did little to help his desolate mood. Instead his reading was regularly interrupted by memories of a certain redhead. He wasn’t sure what he had done to deserve his mind replaying their parting _ad nauseum._ He felt particularly sick to his stomach as he recalled the tears that fell from her normally playful eyes and the blood that trickled down her scraped knees onto her knee-high socks that had bunched around her ankles from her desperate run. And he hated himself for thinking how adorable she had looked wearing his oversized shirt beneath her robes and how much his body ached to wrap her tightly in his arms once again.

Remus ran a hand over his face, wincing as he encountered the still unhealed scars there. This was ridiculous. Surely, _surely_ , he had done the right thing. Looking around the ramshackle cottage he had returned to, he knew she wouldn’t have been happy to abandon everything and face public scorn all for a whirlwind romance that had lasted less than a year. It had been the right thing. Even if having her here would have made him happier than he’d been in longer than he could remember. He would have to get used to going back to his life of solitude. He had survived just fine like that for more than a decade—why did the thought of returning to it now feel almost unbearable? He would adapt, and she would marry Stefan Dolohov—a man of wealth and influence who could give her everything that he could not.

Looking down at the book, Remus realized that he’d gripped it so tightly that he’d wrinkled one of the pages. Giving the text an apologetic grimace, he carefully smoothed out the paper and read the words written there:

_‘For there is nothing lost, that may be found, if sought.’_

**_~ fin ~_ **

_AN: Our story will continue in "Rose Potter Malfoy Part 2: Bedsheets and Brandy". Read on for a sneak preview because I love you all and want to spoil you:_

“Rose?”

She turned her attention from the giggling child on her hip to the speaker. The bright smile she’d been giving Kwesi died somewhat when she saw just who it was that had said her name. She could feel her heartbeat quicken traitorously when their eyes locked. It was her first time seeing him since he had left.

“Hello Remus,” she said softly, looking him over just as he was doing to her.

“You look like you’re doing well,” he said.

“You too,” she replied quickly, and he chuckled knowingly at the lie. It must have been just after the full moon because he was quite pale and had dark circles under his eyes. His robes were looking shabbier than ever, and he had a listless air to him she’d never experienced before. The scars that had been fresh on his face when she’d last seen him had healed to soft pink lines that stood out gruesomely against the long healed ones.

“I look like shit,” he said, and she grinned.

“A bit,” she agreed cheekily, and they laughed together. Her stomach squirmed at how much she’d missed talking to the man and listening to the sound of his laughter.

“I suppose I should congratulate you; I saw in the _Prophet_ —”

“Thanks,” she said quickly, hiking Kwesi higher up her hip with one hand. In a desperate attempt to change the subject, she gestured around Diagon Alley with the other one. “What brings you here?”

“Job applications,” he said.

“How is that going?”

“Not very well,” he said honestly and the two trailed off into an awkward silence. Rose had read the horrid article the _Prophet_ had done on him and Dumbledore. She imagined that it was even more difficult to find work now that he had been publicly outed as a werewolf.

“Ouch!” Rose winced when Kwesi grabbed a lock of her hair and gave an unexpectedly hard tug. He giggled unabashedly at her reaction while she carefully pried her hair free of his little fingers. “Knock it off you little imp.”

“And who is this?” Remus asked, stepping closer and smiling at the small boy. Kwesi gazed curiously at the man and giggled when he made a silly face at him, drool bubbles accumulating at the sides of his mouth.

“This is Kwesi, he’s Sam’s little brother. She’s inside picking up some firewhiskey.”

“Well it's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Asare,” Remus said politely, extending a finger to the little wizard.

Kwesi reached out and grabbed for it, wrapping his fingers around Remus’ own. Remus gently moved his finger up and down in a simulacrum of shaking hands and smiled goofily at the child. Rose felt a lump rise in her throat. It was almost too much to be standing so close to him with a child on her hip. Too easy to imagine what it might be like if this were their own child and they were just out walking together rather than having a chance meeting. He seemed to be having a similar train of thought as he glanced at her with warm sad eyes. The smile slowly slid from his face and he straightened up, disentangling his finger from Kwesi's grip. Stepping back, he cleared his throat awkwardly, his eyes sliding over her once more as if he were trying to etch the image of her into his mind.

“Well, it was nice seeing you again,” he said, not quite meeting her eye as he started walking away. Rose felt panic at his sudden departure and turned quickly to watch him go.

“Remus!”

“Yes?” He paused and glanced back at her curiously.

“Would you, uh, would you want to get a drink sometime? You know… as friends. It would be nice to catch up,” Rose felt her heart pounding erratically in her chest while she waited for his response. He ran a hand uneasily through his graying hair, looking at the ground. He seemed to be having some kind of internal war with himself. Finally, he looked up at her and gave her a small smile that set butterflies loose in her stomach.

“I’d like that.”

Rose looked down at Kwesi, letting her hair fall into her face to obscure the warm blush and wide smile that refused to be suppressed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot express how much all of your comments, kudos, and general love and interest has meant to me as I've written this story. I will be taking a brief hiatus to finish some school work and collect my thoughts for the next part of the series. I probably won't post the next portion until I have at least 5 chapters to put up, so keep an eye out for RPM part 2 to show up sometime in late December or early January. I can't wait to get started. If there are particular characters you'd like to see more of or situations you think would be fun, I'm happy to take that into account! I'm so excited to move on to the Goblet of Fire!


	49. Update

Rose Potter Malfoy Part 2 is now live! Please go check it out <3


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